


Heart Out, Brains In

by kkimbly



Series: Dead Alive! [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, M/M, Post-Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23590729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkimbly/pseuds/kkimbly
Summary: "What makes us human, but not them? Humanity? If you go down to the smallest molecules, we are merely lumps of flesh piloted by a hardware following an algorithm. Throw in a virus and fwoosh! Software error! You're a zombie!"Park Jisung, high school dropout by chance and not by choice, attempts to navigate the aftermath of a zombie apocalypse without losing his mind or his patience. He would have paid more attention in Biology class if he knew that he was going to end up as free labour to a pair of possibly mad scientists.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Series: Dead Alive! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985857
Comments: 76
Kudos: 175





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my cautious re-entry back into writing after years. Updates are expected to be weekly but likely to be longer, as this is mostly self-indulgent.
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> 1) While the people and places mentioned are real, they are by no means an accurate representation of reality  
> 2) Romance is practically non-existent and probably limited to a very charged exchange of pipettes. The zombie apocalypse kinda puts a damper on things  
> 3) I tried to be as scientifically plausible as possible but as we all know, sometimes you gotta throw up some smoke and glitter.  
> 4) Considering the current situation of the world, this may be uncomfortable for some readers. I apologise in advance for that.
> 
> This story came from a heated conversation in which I, as a self-respecting virologist, got highly offended by zombie movies. Comments in any form are always welcome, whether it is to debunk the pathology of a zombie virus, the economic repercussions of such an apocalypse, and something more casual. Like screaming. I have been told that I possess a gift for unusual languages.

Park Jisung gingerly steps over a ragged newspaper, grimacing at the faded photograph of white masked, blue-robed people waving bystanders away from a neon yellow tape. _VIRUS OUTBREAK TRIGGERS CONCERN. ACTIVISTS BLAME GLOBAL WARMING. IS THIS THE END?_

The newspaper flutters weakly in the faint breeze, falling limply against the leg of a lamp post broken in half, the shattered glass of its head bowing at Jisung’s feet. He carefully edges away from the glass, taking care not to cut himself through the worn soles of his shoes or make any unnecessary sounds. He spares a brief thought about what his mother would say if she saw him moving around uncharacteristically carefully before packaging away the thought quickly, shoving the tangle of emotions that rose up, unbidden and treacherous, into the back of his mind. Jisung squinted at his cracked phone screen and looked up, checking the street signs before making his way down the eerily silent street of Sinchon. The main street of Sinchon was wide, flanked on both sides with the colourful boards of cafes and cosmetic stores to lure tired students in. Further down the road, past a looming stone bridge, the campus of Yonsei university stretched out.

He never got a chance to go to university. The outbreak had wiped half the world clean, along with any and all thoughts about college entrance exams before Jisung reached his birthday in his final year of high school. Sometimes, like now as Jisung made his way swiftly past the gaping mouths of the darkened storefronts, he would wonder how it would be like to be a college student. He tries to imagine how it would be like to not have classes that stretch for 9 hours at a time, to be one of those students who spill out of the regal gates of Yonsei – tired, eager, stressed – towards the many bars that litter the neighbourhood of Sinchon or even to the café where he would be hired as a barista, trying to make ends meet like almost every other disillusioned college student buoyed down by debts and crippling self-worth that rested on thin shoulders barely coming into adulthood like the weight of Atlas’s world.

Maybe it was a morbid sort of blessing, because lord knows Jisung certainly wouldn’t be able to make it into the golden ticket of a university like Yonsei, but perhaps the gray smoke of hopelessness that trails his footsteps everyday wasn’t all that different from what could have been.

Dried leaves scraped the cement floor as they tumbled past Jisung, buffeted by the chilly February wind and breaking the oppressive silence that he still struggled to get used to. Sinchon, the central heart of the neighbouring universities of Hongik, Ehwa and Yonsei, was never quiet. _Seoul_ was never quiet. It was a city that never slept, and now it was a city that was dead. Jisung makes his way toward the pharmacist located in the corner of the street, peering through the half-broken glass window to check for any unwanted presence. Inside the pharmacy, empty shelves lay askew but Jisung was undeterred, stepping over the metal frame of the broken glass door as he cautiously entered. The milky, anemic daylight filtered in, illuminating just enough for him to make out the outline of a sealed box of bandages shoved haphazardly beneath the counter. _Bingo_. Jisung ducked under the counter, grabbing the box and quickly making his way out. The last thing he needs is to be trapped in that small space without an escape route for him to run like hell if anything appears. 

The winter sun had dipped down in the sky during the short time he was there, not that it mattered much to _them_. It was Jisung, the feeble human, who had to be careful of the darkness that now swallows up the world every evening. There was barely enough electricity left to run the world, much less light up streets like a damn beacon for those things when they could be used to keep the satellites and internet just working enough for half of humanity to struggle with creating a miracle, and the other half to keep their ears to the ground for any news, good or bad.

Despite the slowly darkening sky, Jisung found himself hesitating at the boardwalk that leads to Yonsei. The fading glow of the sun streaked shadows over the broad street like watercolour, no cars in sight to stop his way. Jisung knew that there’s always a convenience store or two on every campus and any food he could find is always welcome. The cowardly side of him argued that it could have been emptied out already, but he had a gut feeling that there was a treasure trove waiting for him. After all, it wasn’t like the world descended into chaos overnight. It was more a case of people starting to go out less and less – at first as a precaution, later as fear – until all that was left was a ghost town with its inhabitants in the shadows.

All in all it wasn’t a stretch to imagine that no student in their sound mind would make their way to school when degrees stop mattering.

That made the decision for him. He crossed the street quickly, barely resisting the urge to sprint at being so uncomfortably exposed. Once he got past the gates, he slowed his footsteps, deliberating his way. The main road of Yonsei wasn’t all that different from Sinchon; just one broad main street with elegant gray buildings on either side, exposing everything neatly yet packing away exactly what he needed to find. Jisung shivered at a gust of wind, promptly abandoning caution to hurry down the footpath, taking care to skulk in the shadows and keep himself close to structures that could conceal him. He was moving so fast that he almost missed the convenience store situated all the way to the back of the cafeteria. Jisung jerked in his movement and crouched down slowly to peer through glass doors into the shadows of the empty cafeteria, eyes peeled for any movement at all. It would be fine if it was a human but anything else spells danger for someone in unknown territory and rapidly approaching darkness.

Empty chairs and tables were haphazardly scattered around the room as though everyone left in a haste and no one bothered to push them back in. There didn’t seem to be anyone on the premises except for him, but he waited for a few precious moments anyway, straining his ears to hear for the slightest sound. When he detected none, he pushed the glass door open, wincing at the sound of the brush at the bottom of the door sliding across tile and stilling in his movements. When nothing out of the ordinary happened, he eased his body through the tiny gap and propped the door open with the box of bandages, saving the need to open it again and make more unnecessary sounds.

Once in, Jisung made a beeline to the convenience store, exhaling in relief at the well-stocked shelves of non-perishable items. Hefting his bag forward, he packed in cans of tuna, beans and kimchi, throwing in microwavable rice and ramen for good measure. Jisung was packing them in tightly so they wouldn’t rattle when the sound of a footfall made him freeze.

Heart in his mouth, not even daring to move his head, Jisung scanned the cafeteria. The footstep came again, a lethargic drag that kicked his heart to high and sent every muscle in his body tensing. A movement at the edge of his vision caught in his eye and he moved his head infinitesimally, blood running cold when he sees an Infected.

It was far enough from him that it probably wouldn’t see him just yet, not with the darkness of the place. He – it – wandered mindlessly past the tables, heading for the kitchen and away from him. Jisung’s arm was trembling from a combination of nerves and the weight of the food but he daren’t put it down yet, not when there was a risk of the tiniest rattle. It had its back to him as it shuffled further in and Jisung took the opportunity to edge out of the aisle and into the open space of the cafeteria, one hand gripping his bag steady and the other still holding the food aloft. That was when he saw the silhouette of someone crouched behind the counter of the _ddeokbokki_ store.

Sensing his gaze with uncanny instinct, the person turned his head slowly and caught sight of Jisung. Even from this distance Jisung could see the barely concealed panic in his eyes. Several things registered in Jisung’s mind in quick succession. One; the Infected was just a few paces away from sighting the stranger and setting off chaos that could draw the attention of everyone and everything in the vicinity. Two; the stranger had no way of escaping unless he vaulted across the counter towards Jisung, catching its attention and drawing it to _both_ of them, again setting off chaos that could draw the attention of everyone and everything in the vicinity. Three; in the same amount of time, Jisung could slip towards the open door and escape, leaving the stranger as bait while he escapes the chaos that would undoubtedly draw the attention of everyone and everything in the vicinity. 

It wasn’t a difficult choice to make. Jisung is and always will be a coward.

He turned towards the door with renewed urgency, his chest tight with fearful anticipation as he slid through the gap and yanked the box out of the door and –

Shit.

The door swung shut, the sound of the brush piercingly loud in the dead silence as it dragged. The door squeaked mockingly as it falls into place beside its twin. A split-second pause, and Jisung lifted his eyes from where they were transfixed in horror on the door and makes eye contact with the Infected.

Damn. Karma sure got him good.

The Infected snarled, lurching towards him and starting to yowl, tipping Jisung into full-blown terror as he heard the answering cries. He tore down the street towards the gates of Yonsei, adrenaline pushing his strides longer and longer. Jisung stumbled over a step, just in time to miss colliding straight into an Infected that suddenly appeared from around the corner. He gasped, falling back clumsily as it noticed him and growled.

Jisung shoved patio chairs into its way as he struggled to find his footing and for an escape route. It was too close, there wouldn’t be enough time for him to retrieve the knife he had stupidly stashed at the bottom of the bag when he was doing his bloody grocery shopping. A sharp whistle cut through the air and both he and the Infected turned to the source of the sound. The stranger from earlier was standing on an elevated step next to them, high enough that someone with a reasonable amount of athleticism would be able to scale quickly. Jisung seized its momentary distraction to dash towards the stranger, long limbs scrambling as he scaled the wall, hearing and feeling the Infected swiping at him from below, just barely missing his foot. This one looked like it was once a college student and even without meeting an Infected like this before he knew that it would be almost as strong as Jisung, rotting or not. The stranger grabbed his arm, hauling him up the rest of the way one-handed and dragging him along as they ran down the slope in the direction of the main building of Severence hospital located just beside the gates of Yonsei.

No, Jisung wanted to say, that’s the wrong way. I need to get back to Chenle by sundown or he’ll beat my ass. As it was there was hardly any time to breathe, much less form a full sentence while they were running. The stranger led them through a maze of footpaths that wove through the hospital. He came to a stop in front of a gray door, scanning his card and yanking Jisung in the moment the green light lit up. The door closed with a heavy thump and they both pause, breathing shallowly as they listened to the tell-tale groaning of the Infected passing by outside.

The stranger motioned to him and they soundlessly went down the corridor and up several flights of stairs, scanning another gray door open and emerging into the harsh fluorescent light of an empty corridor.

“I need to go,” Jisung said breathlessly as soon as the stranger opened his mouth, “I can’t stay here, my friend is waiting for me and we only have one phone.”

The stranger snapped his mouth shut to shoot him an exasperated look. “I don’t need to explain to you how impossible that it right now.”

Jisung struggled with himself for a moment before he conceded to the logic. “Fine, then I’ll leave in a couple of hours.”

If possible, the stranger looked even more exasperated. “How are you going to do that? Walk through Sinchon blind? I might as well have just left you there. Like you were planning to do with me.” He added as an afterthought pettily. Jisung shifted in place guiltily but refused to look away. Up close, he could see that the stranger was not much older than him. His face was unlined despite being drawn and weary, lips chapped and dyed brown hair flopping messily over his forehead. Despite being slightly shorter than Jisung, his body was sinewy and clearly strong enough to manhandle a 180-centimetre adult up a slope one-handed. Jisung briefly weighed the possibility of death by mauling against Chenle’s wrath when Jisung disappears without a word for the whole night.

The tension was broken when he sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned away, a clear indication for Jisung to follow. He complied cautiously, hand tightening its grip on the food packets he forgot he was still holding. They went through another door that the stranger opened with his card again and Jisung allowed himself to entertain the wild possibility that Yonsei was involved in illegal activity like the conspiracy theories on the web often speculated. The stranger walked quickly down the long corridor punctuated by entranceways at regular intervals on the left, through which Jisung could see cubicles arranged like a regular office. Instead of going in, the stranger makes a sharp turn to the right and enters a laboratory space.

“Jeno!” the stranger called out, still moving at the same rapid pace that had even Jisung struggling to catch up. The layout of the laboratory looked like what Jisung had glimpsed in the office space earlier, but instead of cubicles there were row after row of benches, above which were racks that stretched to the ceiling and crammed with glass bottles of clear liquid. “Jeno!” he yelled again, not looking the slightest bit winded as though this was a regular walking speed for him. His voice echoed in the open space, bouncing off the hundreds of glass bottles and machinery that had Jisung wincing out of habit. Another guy, black-haired, bespectacled and looking equally exhausted, emerged from where he was concealed behind a computer perched precariously on a tiny space of the bench. His eyes lit up a little from their dull gaze when he saw Jisung, “Who’s this?”

The stranger paused, looking like he was suddenly remembering that they hadn’t done any introductions yet. Jisung quickly stepped in, “I’m Jisung,” he offered and bowed in greeting.

The bespectacled boy smiled wanly but sincerely, eyes crinkling into crescents as he bowed back. “I’m Jeno,” he introduced himself in a low, steady voice that matched the quiet strength of his overall demeanour. “Lee Jeno. And this is Na Jaemin.” Jeno gestured to the stranger. “We’re…well you can think of us as junior scientists trying to figure out a solution to this mess.”

“We’re students,” Jaemin cut in, looking ten times more stressed at the reply. “We were doing our PhD when this whole thing started so we have barely enough training to even be considered – ”

“Jaemin’s an overachiever who had been interning at Yonsei pharmaceuticals in the day and researching infectious diseases throughout the night.” Jeno continued serenely as though Jaemin hadn’t spoken. “He has been in the research field for at least 6 years – not even counting his undergraduate stuff – and he’s pretty good.” Jeno smiled at Jaemin fondly, pointedly oblivious to the misery apparent on his face.

“So you guys are here. Alone. Researching. Without a team,” Jisung asked slowly. He didn’t know much about research, but he had enough sense and background knowledge from movies to know that finding the cure to the worldwide epidemic couldn’t be done by a two-man team of kids not much older than him. Even thinking about it sounded laughable.

Jeno glanced at Jaemin as though asking for help, looking a bit uncomfortable. “Most drug companies have stopped their research,” Jaemin answered tiredly. “They generate massive amounts of data and if this damn virus didn’t spread so fast they could have gotten together and figured it out. Unfortunately,” Jaemin ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, “When at least half the team is put out of commission within a week – this virus is crazy infectious, it spread before we even figured out how – and the funds ran dry thanks to the economic crash, not to mention the government’s cutback on electricity usage, it becomes a lot harder to put out data when the resource input is barely a fraction of what it used to be.”

Jisung was silent as he absorbed the information, remembering how his favourite hole-in-the-wall restaurants had closed down at the early stages when no one was particularly worried yet. He, and everyone else, had dismissed them as a usual phenomenon of South Korea’s rapid market changes. It was only when it continued, spread across the world and up the chain of businesses, infecting everything in its path and leaving behind dead streets that had everyone frantically stocking up on supplies and locking themselves indoors that they realised it was a burgeoning problem.

The Infected had a hand in killing most of the world, but there was no denying that it was the economic crash and the ensuing panic and chaos that hit the nail in the coffin.

Catching Jisung’s gaze around the lab space with the ostentatiously bright lights and elaborate machinery, Jaemin cracked his first genuine smile. “Yonsei is – was – pretty big on environmental conservation. A huge part of the campus has been running solar panels for years now and shutting down all the other unnecessary electricity usage gave us enough to get by.”

“What even is this place?” Jisung asked, too curious to hold back any longer.

“Severance Biomedical Science Institute.” Jeno answered with a wry smile. “You can consider it as the research branch of Severance hospital, considering that we do get a lot of our samples there. What about you, Jisung?” Jeno asked. “Are you alone?”

“No, I…” Now it was Jisung’s turn to run his hands through his hair, shifting restlessly as the worry rose to the forefront of his mind. “I’m with a friend and I don’t have a way to contact him. I promised to get back by sundown but…” He chewed his lips nervously, “I hope he doesn’t get worried enough to come looking for me.”

Jaemin’s sharp gaze softened somewhat from where they had been trained on him like a disciplining teacher. “Well, it would take a while for those things to settle down and disperse. By then it would probably be too dark for you to wander around anyway.”

Jisung sighed, leaning against the edge of the counter and crossing his arms. He couldn’t deny the logic, but he wasn’t happy with it either. When he left their hideaway this morning the last thing he had expected was to end up in some stranger’s lair, even if they seemed to be alright.

“If I may…where do you live?” Jeno asked after a moment of consideration. “You don’t have to answer in specifics,” he hurried to clarify when he saw Jisung tensing, “I was just wondering if there could be a way for me – ” Jaemin made a sound of protest, “ – to escort you back. We know the area well, you see.” He finished with a small smile.

“Absolutely not,” Jaemin thundered even before Jisung could voice his opposition, glaring at Jeno. “Wait for morning and we’ll go together.”

Jeno shook his head. “If our positions were reversed you would come looking for me too.”

“You wouldn’t be going anywhere without me in the first place.”

“Jaemin, I’m _stronger_ than you.”

“Neither of you have to come,” Jisung put an end to the bickering swiftly. He was growing more on edge as the conversation progressed. Zhong Chenle is many things but cautious he was not. He could imagine Chenle sitting at the edge of the tiny bed they shared, tapping his foot and swinging the metal bat more and more agitatedly the further the sun sank. It was only a matter of time before he decides that he had had enough and sets out to systematically scour the shortcut Jisung took to cut through the park from Hongik to Sinchon. Jisung’s panic rises ten-fold as he imagines Chenle meeting the horde of creatures wandering around Sinchon, no doubt restless from the alarm their brethren had raised. “You know what, I’m just going to leave now. Hongik isn’t all that far from here anyway.” Even as he spoke he felt a tendril of worry; it was his first time venturing out of Hongik towards Sinchon and he wasn’t all that confident that he could remember the shortcut back, especially in complete darkness.

Jeno and Jaemin paused in their bickering to gape at him. Predictably, Jaemin spoke first, disbelieving and indignant, “No the hell you’re not.”

“You can’t stop me,” Jisung replied, too taken aback to register how ridiculously childish he sounded. Who does this guy think he is? They barely met an hour ago.

“Watch me,” he hissed, eyes narrowing and beginning to close in on Jisung, who tensed and prepared to throw the packets of ramen he was _still_ clutching in his face. Jeno grabbed the collar of Jaemin’s shirt and pulled him back, effectively ending the standoff. “Jaemin’s right. It’s too dangerous for you to go alone. We’ll go with you.” Sensing the rising mutiny of both Jaemin and Jisung – united for the first time since they met – Jeno elaborated, “The full moon should give us enough light that we won’t be walking completely blind and we know the route to Hongik like the back of our hand. And if you don’t want us following you all the way back we can drop you off at the main street of Hongik and you can find the way back.”

“It’s dangerous,” Jaemin said tightly. “If something appears we would end up literally running blind.” He glanced at Jisung before exhaling angrily and moving towards the massive glass windows concealed by blinds that Jisung hadn’t noticed earlier. “But I don’t think we can stop him anyway.”

Jeno and Jaemin followed him, craning their necks and peering down at the streets. In the fading twilight Jisung could make out the skeletal outline of Sinchon cathedral and the buildings of the main street rising up like twisted trees, an inky black mass of shadows cloaked in dim blue light. There didn’t seem to be any Infected on the streets, but lord knows where they could be hiding. Jaemin let the blinds fall back into place and pushed past them to retrieve knives from a drawer. “No bats?” Jisung asked, puzzled.

“They make too much noise.” Jeno answered, fitting out himself with thick gloves and wrapping a bomber jacket around himself, accepting the knives from Jaemin with a nod of thanks. “Easier to drive the knife into the eye and kill both them and that damn virus living in their brain, so long as you can avoid spurting blood into your face.” Jeno ran his finger along the long, narrow blade, checking its sharpness before he slid it back into its sheath. Properly outfitted, they started towards the exit when they realised that Jisung wasn’t following them.

Jisung fidgeted in place, feeling unreasonably guilty. “You don’t have to escort me,” he muttered, not meeting their eyes. “It’s my choice and you shouldn’t risk yourselves for it.”

“Oh yeah, for sure.” Jaemin wasted no time to agree wholeheartedly. “It’s on you when your dumbass eventually gets killed but Jeno’s bleeding heart isn’t going to let you go alone. I’m going for him, not for you.”

Ouch. Jisung shrugged, every ounce of remorse rapidly draining away as he followed the duo out and back to the door they first entered. “Check the CCTV,” Jeno instructed Jaemin, eyes fixed on the door several steps away. Gone was the tired, nerdy looking boy from earlier. Something in Jeno had shifted, any lingering tiredness settled into a single point of laser focus. Similarly, Jaemin’s irritation seem to have melted away as his gaze sharpened, all the agitation stilling into the suspended tension of a hunter. The CCTV feed on Jaemin’s iPhone showed that the coast was clear and they eased the door open carefully, ready to slam it shut back again at a moment’s notice.

Jisung almost wanted to regret his decision as they left the safety of the building. Whatever lingering sunlight had vanished in that short period of time, leaving the area basically pitch dark, cold and unnervingly _empty_ like winter nights usually are. Jaemin went ahead of them, motioning for them to follow. They moved silently through the coiling maze of footpaths out into the boardwalk that Jisung had crossed mere hours ago. The full moon cast its pearly glow on the world, illuminating their path just enough that they could make out outlines but not details.

They hurried along, tension rising in each of them at the complete absence of movement and sound. Just as they turned down the street that would lead them through the park to Hongik, the faintest sound of a footstep had them all freezing in place, not even needing to be prompted by Jaemin’s hand which rose protectively in front of Jeno. Cloaked in the darkness, they turned their head slowly, surveying the surroundings.

Jisung almost jumped when Jeno’s hand landed softly on his forearm. Looking over, Jeno jerked his chin to his left, eyes fixed on the figure dragging its feet along several feet away from them. Jaemin had caught sight of it too, his hand resting on the waistband of his jeans where he had strapped his knife too. They watched as the figure got further away from them before making a move again. The shared tension between them rose even further if that was even possible.

Under the light of the full moon, they made their way through park and to the main street of Hongik. Jaemin turned to Jisung, motioning his intention to leave now that he had completed his mission. Jisung hesitated, watching them as Jeno waved and presumably smiled, turning away.

His hand shot out, clasping Jeno’s wrist. At Jeno’s questioning tilt of his head, Jisung shook his head, resolve strengthening. He would freely acknowledge his cowardice but he wasn’t a jerk. Regardless of everything that happened, the fact was that wandering in the darkness is a risk. A risk that they took for a stranger. It wouldn’t be right for him to send them away, even if he didn’t trust them yet. Jisung tugged Jeno closer, murmuring into his ear. “Stay over at my place until daybreak. It’s too dangerous,” he added more firmly when Jeno made to shake his head. “Think about Jaemin.” He insisted when Jeno continued to hesitate, unashamedly exploiting his weakness.

That did it. Jeno gave in, pulling a confused and mildly irritated Jaemin to whisper in his ear. Even with the lack of visibility Jisung could see Jaemin’s face twist into a scowl, clearly unhappy with the choice but no doubt understanding the logic, albeit grudgingly. How Jaemin could maintain his perpetual annoyance in the face of something as terrifying as zombies in hearing distance was something Jisung completely failed to understand. Jisung shrugged it off, dismissing it as another of his peculiarity and taking the lead to bring them to the backstreets where the building he and Chenle lived was located.

They reached the building with no incident. The building itself was nondescript, indistinguishable from every other building on the street. He unlocked the door, wincing at the clanging sound as the key turned in the lock. Simultaneously, all three of them paused to listen for a sound. When they heard none, they slipped in through the door and Jisung locked it soundly before they ascended the stairs to the highest floor.

“This seems like a prime location,” Jaemin commented. Jisung’s eyebrows rose at the unexpected approval, “Prime location to be cornered like rats.”

Jisung huffed, not really able to find it in himself to be surprised. Barely three hours in and he can already foresee himself and Jaemin grating on each other’s nerves for as long as they are within ten feet of each other. He was starting to regret bringing them to Chenle, who was the significantly more explosive dynamite between the two of them. “We’re not exactly at the highest floor…” he mumbled as he fiddled with the bolt lock on the only door in the highest floor. At first sight people would easily mistake it to be a storage room, likely to be prehistoric and locked for ages. To an extent it _was_ , but that was exactly what Chenle had intended when he designed this hideout. The door swung open with a metallic creak and both Jeno and Jaemin cringed at the sound but Jisung was unfazed, knowing that sound didn’t escape from the dingy, tightly enclosed stairwell unless one was in the building. He led the way inside to a room not that much bigger than the usual one-room studio apartments rented out to university students. A solitary bed with a dirty, naked mattress had been shoved to a corner next to a tiny fridge sitting sadly on the floor. Aside from a rickety chair and the stacks of canned and packaged food messily arranged in empty cardboard boxes, the room was empty of any furniture and anyone.

From behind him, he heard Jeno suck in a breath. “Shit, Jisung, did he…?”

Jisung ignored him, dumping the food he had pilfered earlier into a random box and heading straight for the solitary window. He pushed it open and it swung open soundlessly, its hinges painstakingly greased every morning. Jisung leaned out of the window dangerously, drawing a rope back into the room before Jaemin got a chance to yell something unnecessary. He turned back to the duo who were staring at him in bafflement (Jeno) and annoyed confusion (Jaemin). “Well, c’mon.” Jisung shook the rope at them. “We live on the rooftop.”

Without waiting for an answer, he swung out of the window and scaled the wall swiftly, still unused to the stomach-dropping sensation of dangling in mid-air. “That’s…impressive,” Jaemin said slowly when he emerged over the lip of the wall where Jisung stood waiting. “A storage room below and the actual living quarters in a place physically inaccessible to non-humans and hidden to humans who wouldn’t otherwise know about the place.” 

“It wasn’t my idea, Chenle thought of it,” Jisung said proudly, pleased with the compliment from the prickly other.

“Clearly,” Jaemin replied dryly without missing a beat. “That never even crossed my mind.”

Jisung scowled at him but let it go, instead turning away to shove the key in the lock and push the door open. He didn’t know what he expected, maybe the room would be Chenle-free and in a mess from the weapons he outfitted himself with in a haste in his rush to hunt for Jisung when sundown passed and he had to grab that precious few minutes of twilight before it turned to the dark zone. Perhaps the room wouldn’t even be locked – it wouldn’t be the first time it happened. Jisung swallowed the nervous bile rising in his throat, he honestly had no clue what to do if Chenle was really gone, out to hunt for his stupid, stupid, ass.

He did not expect to see Chenle sitting on their shared bed, staring at him with wide, guilty eyes as a lump of chewed ramen fell out of his mouth, landing in the paper bowl with a soggy splat.

Behind him, Jaemin snorted.

“Why are you here?” Jisung demanded, half-angry and drawing a complete blank on why, and utterly confused on where to direct it towards. He had always had shitty emotional intelligence.

“Why the hell are _you_ here?” Chenle hurled back. “It’s past sundown, were you walking around in the dark? That’s so stupid!” he yelled before Jisung even got a chance to reply.

“That’s exactly what we told him,” Jaemin interrupted, obnoxiously loud. “Your friend here got into some trouble and instead of staying the night at our place, he insisted on coming back _alone_ , and in _pitch darkness_ , because he was worried that you might go around looking for him.”

“As though I would ever be that stupid?” Chenle sounded a mix of disbelief and amazement, probably at Jisung’s idiocy. “I figured that you made a mess – because you’re dumb and we both know it – and was probably hiding out till daybreak but you actually came back? In the dark?” He fell backwards against the wall, the hand holding the bowl of ramen falling limply to the side, splattering even more sauce. “Wow, you exceeded my expectations, Park Jisung.”

“You’re not any better!” Jisung finally recovered enough to start yelling back. “You said that we were out of ramen!” He stopped short, clogged up with betrayal and furious embarrassment. “ _And_ we promised not to eat on the bed!” he tacked on as an afterthought, betrayal and horror renewing in him afresh when he registered the red stains of the spicy chicken noodles Chenle had traitorously eaten without him.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t be yelling…?” Jeno tried to intervene, somehow managing to sound apologetic even though telling them to shut up was a pretty valid reason.

“Shut up guys,” Jaemin did it for him. “Talk about this tomorrow. I’m exhausted and I want to sleep.” Upon catching the look on Jeno’s face, he sighed and tried again, marginally more polite, “Could we have some blankets to sleep on? We’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“Who are you guys anyway?” Chenle demanded, finally letting go of his childish argument with Jisung to deal with the more pressing question. Chenle surprisingly took the new developments well as Jeno explained, pulling the blankets off the bed and handing it to the two, all the while with a look on his face that put Jisung on his guard, because nothing good ever comes out of Chenle looking thoughtful. “Shut up and sleep, Park Jisung.” Chenle mumbled, huddling closer to Jisung as they crammed onto the bed. “I can hear you thinking.”

“That’s because I can hear _you_ thinking,” he retorted without missing a beat, wrapping an arm around Chenle and pulling his human heater closer. Damn, he should have thought of the logistics before inviting two full-grown males to a room that was barely meant for one. He would be lucky to wake up with all his toes intact considering how freezing the rooftop apartment is, and it was bloody winter of all things.

“And we can hear you two talking,” Jaemin sniped, ignoring Jeno’s hushing and quiet reprimanding. Shivering, blanket-less, limbs cramped as he fought to manoeuvre around Chenle on the single bed and hungry from all the running around, Jisung should be feeling worse. But there was a little glow of relief and something else unidentifiable as he lay there in the darkness, surrounded by people who reminded him a little of something familiar and long-lost.


	2. 2

Like clockwork, Jisung woke up at the crack of dawn. He lay still, eyes roving around him and ticking off the mental checklist as his body woke slowly. He had always been a bit of an insomniac and at the beginning he would wake up gasping, terrorised by nightmares of _them_ crawling up from beneath the bed and seizing him. It didn’t happen as often anymore, but he still found himself checking his surroundings every time he woke.

Jisung tensed when he heard a grunt from beside the bed, momentarily forgetting that they had guests over. He pottered around the miniscule kitchen they had, trying miserably to prepare breakfast until Jaemin stood up from where he had been steadfastly pretending to sleep on the floor to shove Jisung aside and throw together a simple meal of soy sauce egg fried rice that Jisung already knew in his gut that the two of them would never be able to recreate.

“Do you mean to tell me that you two basically have the whole building to yourself?” Chenle questioned Jaemin when they were seated around the tiny round table eating their breakfast and freezing their butts on the stone-cold floor. Jaemin, the unfortunate victim of Chenle’s interrogation, was targeted for the sole reason that he looked decidedly more awake compared to Jeno. The other had been impossible to wake, even now he was slumped against Jaemin as he chewed on his rice sleepily. Jisung envied his carefreeness.

“Yeah.” Jaemin shook Jeno off him half-heartedly. “Once we sealed off all the entrances – there weren’t many, considering that it’s a lab and you needed clearance to enter in the first place – it was about as watertight as a bomb shelter.”

“What about the rest? Shouldn’t there be more of you? Why is it just the two of you there?” Chenle fired question after question.

Jaemin frowned at the barrage of questions. It was hard to tell if he was confused, annoyed or digesting the questions, considering that he had a permanent expression of haughty disdain most of the time. “Most of the students left for home at the beginning. A lot of people in the building worked on bacteria and parasites – not something as niche as viruses – and obviously that meant that them staying was completely pointless. Then when it got worse the actual scientists started abandoning their labs entirely. Once it became pretty obvious that the virus was at least BSL-4, far exceeding the clearance of every lab in Yonsei, there was no reason to stay when we weren’t even allowed to research it.”

Jisung decided that he didn’t like the look in Chenle’s eyes right now. If he had looked thoughtful last night, right now the look in his eyes was calculating. He didn’t seem the least bit surprised by Jaemin’s answers. If anything, he looked satisfied, like he was expecting the answers. “Why did you guys stay?” Jisung asked, scraping up the last bit of rice. “Don’t you guys have families too?” Chenle shoved his elbow into his side hard and he hissed, shoving back. When he looked back up, he regretted asking that question at all. Jaemin’s face was carefully blank, his gaze too dark and empty to be calm. Even Jeno, who had been snuggling into Jaemin’s shoulder, stiffened the slightest bit.

“We were too late for that.” Jaemin replied, voice neutral and leaving it as that. Too late? Too late to catch the trains before they stopped? Jisung was pretty sure that they were still running long into the epidemic. As dedicated as they were Jisung couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to stay in a place working on something they had neither guidance nor clearance to work on while their families were at risk – oh.

This time he didn’t even need Chenle pinching his thigh viciously hard to know that he should shut up. Wow, he really is an idiot. He scraped at his bowl roughly, unsure on how to break the tense silence. In the end Chenle took over, “Can we join you guys?”

What.

“What.” Jaemin deadpanned.

“What?” Jeno finally sat upright, rubbing his eyes and dislodging his glasses.

“Why.”

“Why not?” Chenle shrugged, unfazed. “Your place seems a lot safer than ours if I’m going to be honest. And from what it sounds the electricity and water supply is a lot more stable than this lame place and it might even have more food, considering that we pretty much cleared out this area. There’s plenty of benefits to moving in with them, idiot.” He directed the last part to Jisung, nudging him.

“And what about benefits to us?” Jaemin snapped. “We’re not charitable enough to run some kind of puppy shelter – ”

“Don’t worry, you can take that charity and shove it up your – ”

“Hey, did you hear that, Jisung? He referred to us as _puppies_. How cute.”

“Sure, we have plenty of room.” Jeno finally spooned the last bite of rice into his mouth, oblivious to the twin glares of betrayal he was receiving. Chenle, on the other hand, looked positively ecstatic. “You don’t mind sharing supplies, do you? I think we can bring over everything in two trips. One if we push it.”

“I refuse.” Jaemin stood up suddenly to glare down at them, almost knocking over the low table. “There is absolute no way in hell I’m taking in two strangers – no, one child and one idiot – into a place where they could break machines with their sole presence or invite zombies in for a frat party out of sheer stupidity. You can’t convince me this time Jeno, so help me or I’ll – ”

/

“The bathroom’s that way.” Jeno pointed out helpfully as Jaemin fumed in silent rage beside him. “Showers there too.”

“Cool, we’ll go put this away in a room or something.” Chenle replied cheerfully, hefting the last of the boxes higher up his arms. They followed the direction that Jeno had pointed out earlier and into the lounge, arranging their supplies in the now growing pile of their combined goodies. Oh _nice_ , they even had gummy worms. Jisung hadn’t had those in _forever_. “Where do you think we’re going to sleep?” Chenle asked offhandedly as he threw himself into a couch with a sigh of relief. “Here? I don’t think the offices are going to be comfortable. Ooh, maybe each of us can take one level of the building!” he sat up, eyes sparkling at the prospect.

Jisung highly doubted that they could pull that off without Jaemin trying to push them out the window. “Um, maybe it’s safer to stick together,” he finally said. “We don’t know the layout of the building like they do.” Chenle looked disappointed but acquiesced easily, something that Jisung was grateful for. Arguments with Chenle normally left him with a headache and thoroughly defeated.

Surprisingly, the rest of the morning passed uninterrupted. Chenle promptly took a nap on the couch while Jisung tried to look for the two twice out of sheer boredom but it was like they vanished entirely. He was halfway through organising their mountain of supplies by category and painstakingly stacking them by size when Jaemin appeared in the doorway of the lounge, looking a little worse for wear. “C’mon kids, let’s get something to eat.” He turned away without waiting for them to scramble after him. Jisung didn’t have the heart to make some snarky remark when he saw the tired stoop of his shoulders.

They headed to the miniscule pantry where Jeno was valiantly attempting to make a risotto out of canned soup and microwaved rice. Wordlessly, Jaemin nudged Jeno aside far gently than he would have with Jisung and taking the spoon from Jeno, who glanced at him in apology but moved aside to pull some mismatched cups from the cupboard. They ate in silence in the lounge, Jisung trying to eat as quietly as he can while sneaking glances at Chenle who sat next to him. Jaemin who was sitting opposite him was poking at his rice moodily, lost in thoughts while Jeno chewed at his food contentedly, either oblivious or unbothered by his friend’s silence.

“So what were you guys up to?” Chenle asked finally, clearly unable to bear the silence for much longer.

“Experiments.” Jeno chanced a careful peek at Jaemin, continuing when the other showed no signs of even hearing him. “Jaemin’s experiments aren’t working so well.”

“Oh. Huh. Why don’t we help you?” Chenle offered, stealing a spoonful of risotto from Jisung, who scowled but let it go.

“What? No!” They jumped at Jaemin’s abrupt animation. He was glaring at Chenle with narrowed, distrusting eyes. “I’m not letting you anywhere near my mice, much less a virus as dangerous as this one. In any case you wouldn’t know what you’re doing.”

“We don’t have to do the dangerous stuff,” Chenle persisted, “We could help you do the non-virus stuff like, I don’t know, keeping the mice cages clean? Dragging back zombies? Jisung’s pretty lousy but I’m not too bad at killing them. You’ll probably only need the head, right?”

Jisung spluttered in indignation as Jeno and Jaemin exchanged a look. “That’s not too bad.” Jeno spoke first, mild surprise in his voice as though it had never crossed his mind. “He can help with breeding the mice and maintaining the upkeep. Or even the making of reagents we keep running out of. It would be one less thing to deal with.” Despite himself, Jisung found that he wasn’t too averse to the idea. Back in Chenle’s apartment there was always something to do; they had to check the building for a breach every day, scout out the vicinity and quietly dispose of any lingering Infected, look for food and keep themselves fit and on top of the game. Staying idle was the one-way ticket to hell, whether in reality or the one in their heads.

Jaemin didn’t say anything to refute that, which Jisung took to be a good thing. He had quickly figured that the less Jaemin said, the better. Jaemin seemed like the kind to out-talk his opponents in arguments by virtue of his limitless stamina to send paragraphs of speech before anyone got out a full sentence. “I’m running out of viruses.” Jaemin said slowly. “You’re right, I will need fresh zombie heads because I’m not too keen on reusing the ones I’ve tested in mice and god knows if it’s mutating in the zombies. But there is no way that I’m letting you guys go off hunting alone.”

“Don’t underestimate us,” Jisung replied, offended. “We’ve been doing just fine by ourselves all this while.”

“Oh please, I could hardly care less about you two. It’s my samples that I’m worried about.” Jaemin volleyed back without batting an eyelash, deliberately ignoring the side-eye Jeno threw at him.

“If you’re going to be so nit-picky about it why don’t you get them yourself?” Jisung snarled, rapidly losing patience.

“That was exactly what I was going to do, thank you for the useless volunteering.”

“How are you a scientist? You’re so childish – ”

“What did you just say to me? Did the apocalypse knock off all the manners from your head? Come here you brat, I’ll beat some respect into you – ”

“Why don’t you guys join us for the afternoon experiments?” Jeno interrupted loudly, shoving an arm between the two of them as though blocking eye contact could solve the conflict. Chenle was looking thoroughly entertained by the circus show, going as far as to lean back in his seat to get a good view of the two of them. Jisung wanted to throttle him. “We can show you the ropes for a week or so until you get familiar with sterility techniques and the reagents we use. That way Jaemin wouldn’t complain so much if you brought samples that aren’t as fresh as he wants them.”

Annoyed and aggravated, Jisung resolved to himself as they were cleaning up to learn it all as fast as he can just to spite Jaemin. He’ll bring back all the damn zombie heads and dissect them in front of him and he’ll wash the brains and feed them to the mice – or something – and he’ll become so good that he can make Jaemin eat his words. Stupid prat.

“This is so exciting!” Chenle was practically vibrating next to him as they took the cargo lift to the basement where the animal facility was located. He even brought a notebook and pen that he snitched from a random desk, as though they were students on a field trip and not a high school dropout and an International Business freshman.

“Please, for god’s sake, don’t touch anything and don’t go anywhere.” Jaemin repeated for the hundredth time as they were robing up in disposable blue lab coats and snapping on nitrile gloves, powder-free, non-allergenic, size XL. “Do not remove your PPE at any time that you’re here, do not come near me when I’m holding bottles and whatever you do please do not play with the mice.”

Jisung rolled his eyes. They might as well just watch a live feed from the lounge considering how paranoid Jaemin was being. Jeno seemed to be thinking the same thing, if the exasperation visible on his face even from behind the mask was anything to go by. “Jaemin,” he said, voice testy, “They’re here to help.”

“I know, I know,” Jaemin answered impatiently as he scanned them in. “I just don’t want to have two zombies on my hands.” Jeno shot them a rueful look when Jaemin’s back was turned, shrugging his shoulders.

Jisung’s knowledge of biology extended to chapter 16, cell signalling, of his high school textbook and an unpleasant first-hand experience when he misread 10 grams and dumped in ten times that amount, only to have the beaker warm up alarmingly fast and bubble all over the bench and into his lab partner’s desk territory, who wasted no time in informing the teacher and shifting to the only available bench at the end of the room, far away from the lab mistake labelled Park Jisung. That, along with a string of…mishaps throughout his high school lab career had convinced him that it was only human to make mistakes. The only thing that mattered was that it was quickly covered up before anyone sees.

Their footsteps, padded by the disposable shoe covers they had pulled on earlier, made muffled thumps as they walked down the corridor lit by murky yellow light. Just like the lab above, it was eerily silent. They went through another locked door and immediately Jisung’s ears were filled with the scuttling sound of tiny creatures. When Jaemin mentioned mice, he was expecting a few cages of mice. Maybe in little glass cases like he saw at the pet shop. He wasn’t expecting to see huge metal racks that stretched from the floor to his eye level, packed fully with clear plastic boxes and filled with mice.

For the next hour Jaemin lectured them thoroughly on the upkeep of mice and the breeding methods, going so far as to force them to pick up the mice and lift their tails to figure out their gender. Unsurprisingly, Chenle got the hang of it quickly, catching them by their scruffs in one swift movement and guessing the gender right, earning a rare smile of approval from Jaemin that faded almost instantly when he turned to see Jisung dropping the poor mouse into the cage with a yelp. God, he hates animals. Especially ones that _bite_. 

“Here, let me show you.” Jeno reached into the cage to grab the tail of the mouse, lifting it onto the roof of the cage where he smoothly grabbed its scruff with his thumb and forefinger. “You need to feel for the slight depression behind its head. They’re strong little things so you have to press them down while you’re scruffing them.” Jeno smiled at him encouragingly, “It’s a little scary at first, but you’ll grow to love them when you see how cute they are.”

No he will not. Jisung is 200% sure of that. But Jeno was smiling at him so warmly he didn’t have a choice but to smile back weakly with a rather unconvincing ‘yeah’.

“Are we going to be infected if they bite us?” Chenle asked casually as he locked the roof back in place. Jisung startled, hastily giving up and stuffing the mouse back into the cage.

“These mice are uninfected.” Jaemin replied as they put the cages back in the cage. For all his snark, Jaemin was a surprisingly good, though impatient, teacher. It was obvious that he loved what he was doing. If the world hadn’t gone to hell, Jisung could see him making a name for himself like the workaholic he no doubt was. “All you have to do is – ”

“Keep the cages clean, keep them breeding, stop them fighting. We know, mom.” Jisung couldn’t resist adding the last bit. Jaemin glared at him but said nothing, locking the cages back in place.

“Should we show them the infected ones too?” Jeno asked Jaemin as they left the room. Jaemin looked uncomfortable, chewing on his lips as he contemplated that. “You want them to collect the zombie samples for you, don’t you? It’s no good if they don’t understand the whole process because if they mess up somewhere they won’t even understand where.”

“I’m not comfortable sending children out to do our stuff, Jeno!” Jaemin finally broke, “Much less put them in contact with infectious tissue samples and turn themselves into zombies because Jisung is exactly the kind of person who could do that.” Jisung didn’t even bother rolling his eyes anymore. Man, Jaemin really had a way of pissing people with his concern. It’s probably a good thing that he never had to deal with people the way business students like Chenle had to. He could bankrupt a small company within six months.

“You’re the only one here who seems like he knows what he’s doing.” Chenle pointed out. “Your entire building’s gone. Drug companies have gone to bust. And we don’t even know what the government is doing anymore. If there’s a way for us to help you find a way to stop this, we will.”

“Even if it means putting your lives at risk?” Jaemin challenged.

Chenle laughed brightly. “From the moment those things have appeared, when have we _not_ been at risk?”

/

If Jisung thought that mice were scary, the infected ones were worse. Even after they left Jaemin to his devices and went back to the main lab, Jisung couldn’t get the image of the mice, rabid and feral, slamming against the wall of their cages and maniacally running around in circles out of his mind.

“I have to keep them,” Jaemin had said edgily when Jisung, horrified and frankly terrified, had asked why he didn’t just kill them. “I’ve narrowed down the possible routes of infection but I don’t think I can manage to figure out a vaccine all by myself. And that means that the only other option is to wait it out, if that’s even possible.”

“Wait it out?”

“How do they infect?”

“Saliva.” Jeno responded, grimly triumphant. “It makes sense anyhow, zombie’s blood is congealed because it’s basically in a rotting body and the flesh isn’t very infectious either unless you swallow like an entire arm or something. But saliva? That’s how the virus is infecting uninfected hosts, by controlling the host to bite into someone else.”

Jaemin lifted a hand, presumably to pinch his nose, lowering it again when he remembered that he had gloves on. “I told you guys that the virus is ridiculously infectious. We – the scientists, government, everyone – didn’t realise just how much. And that was our first big mistake. Asymptomatic hosts have infectious saliva too. You could be walking around perfectly fine and by the end of the week you would be rapidly degenerating into a zombie. Just think about how many people you could have infected during the week with just your saliva alone.”

Next to him, Chenle went pale. Jisung felt sick to the stomach. He could imagine a chopstick sliding out of a mouth, sticky with virus, dipping into a huge pot of army stew shared with friends or colleagues. “In the end, you didn’t even need zombies to go around biting people.” Jeno said bleakly. “Humans did it for them.”

God, no wonder the zombies increased so exponentially. Jisung was silently grateful for the individual bentos his mom prepared for him every morning. “I suppose the brains are fairly infectious too.” Jisung hedged a guess. He didn’t know jackshit about viruses and the frenzied squeaking of the mice was getting to him but he had enough sense to figure that part at least.

Jaemin shrugged. “No more infectious than the saliva at least. If you two are still willing to do this bullshit you’ll have to decapitate heads and bring them here.”

And that was how Jisung found himself standing at the looming gates of Yonsei, an ice cooler of dry ice in one hand and a stabby knife in another. “You ready for this, Park Jisung?” It was mildly assuring to hear the slightest waver in Chenle’s voice. At least he knew he wasn’t the only one terrified out of his mind at having to confront an Infected and decapitate it.

“Let’s go.” Jisung said quietly, moving forward briskly. They decided to scour the backstreets on the basis that they would be far less exposed when they had to get around to the messy business of sawing the head off. Jisung’s heart thumped in his chest as they skulked through alleyways, darting from wall to wall and peering carefully to check if the coast was clear. As good as Chenle was, the two of them weren’t good enough to hold off a horde and Jisung could imagine fairly well the look on Jaemin’s face if they went running back to Yonsei with zombies hot on their heels. The late afternoon sunlight painted shadows over them. It was risky to go out so close to sundown but neither of them were too keen on walking around at midday in plain sight of the Infected.

“That one?” Jisung jumped when Chenle’s breath puffed against his ear. Jisung peeked around a corner, catching sight of a lone one wandering next to a Nature Republic store. It stopped to stare into the store, shuffling close to the glass and shoving its face against the storefront window with a clumsy slam. They watched silently as it drew back after a few minutes and moved off again. Jisung hesitated. The Infected was a female, smaller than Chenle and dressed in a dirty volleyball uniform. More importantly, it looked like it was alone. It would be a pretty easy target and was objectively their best bet.

“I don’t…” Jisung started, trailing off uncertainly. Everything in him was repulsed by the idea. How did Jaemin even manage it? As much of an asshole he was Jisung couldn’t imagine him and Jeno taking down an Infected and sawing away at the head.

“I know. I don’t like it either.” Chenle whispered, shifting slightly from where he was crouched against Jisung. Despite their circumstance, Jisung felt a rush of gratefulness and affection for Chenle. He always knew what to say to reassure Jisung. When they were younger he would struggle with his debilitating shyness to connect with other kids but it was never a problem with Chenle, even when Chenle hadn’t yet learnt how to speak Korean. “But if we don’t do it then Jaemin or Jeno will have to do it. Someone has to.”

Jisung let out a shaky breath, tightening his grip on the knife. “Let’s draw her away to the back.”

“It,” Chenle corrected, “Let’s draw it to the back. It’s not a human.” Despite his words Jisung could feel him trembling from where he was still leaning against Jisung. They darted across the street, ducking behind the building. Jisung sought refuge behind a towering crate of soju bottles while Chenle hurried to the opposite side of the alleyway. Chenle rolled an abandoned bubble tea cup, letting it thump hollowly in the empty alleyway. They held their breath and waited until they heard the tell-tale shuffling grow closer. Jisung adjusted his sweaty grip on the knife and met Chenle’s eyes from where he was hidden in the shadows of the restaurant behind him, a gaily coloured poster stand advertising _samgyeopsal_ concealing his small form. Chenle motioned to him to get ready and he nodded, swallowing back bile.

The Infected shuffled into view, unaware of their presence. In one burst of motion, Jisung leapt forward, clamping a thick wad of cloth over its face and mouth while his other arm held its small body fast against his. At the same time, Chenle drove his knife into her throat, slashing the rotting flesh open. The Infected flailed, but its small frame was no match against Jisung and the fingers scrabbled uselessly against the heavy material of Jisung’s jacket. Fluid from the slashed throat was starting to drip and he quickly lowered the Infected to the ground once he felt it gnawing at the cloth, sitting atop it and leveraging his weight against its shoulder to stop it from moving. “Quickly, quickly,” Chenle muttered, setting the ice box next to them. They exchanged a glance and looked back at the Infected. She – it – was glaring at them and making gurgling noises, unable to sound the alarm that would call more of them over. “Can we wait until it’s dead?” Chenle whispered, looking as sick as Jisung felt.

Jisung took a deep breath, steeling himself. “It _is_ dead. Jaemin said that if we wait too long after cutting the throat the brain is going to start dying and then it’ll be useless.” They stared at the Infected, Jisung still sitting on it and Chenle crouched at his side, neither of them willing to take the first cut.

“I hate this,” Chenle muttered angrily, eyes shining suspiciously as he grabbed the hair of the Infected and pulled her head back, sawing at the slash he had made earlier. The Infected renewed its struggling and Jisung grunted, leaning forward to hold it down. Fluid leaked out from the cut throat, pooling around them. Before he knew it, Chenle was dumping the severed head into the ice box, his knife clattering on the floor as he sat back, breathing hard. Jisung unclenched his fingers from where it was gripping the shoulder of the motionless corpse, releasing it from his hold and scooting away.

They sat there for a while, wasting precious time as the sun continued to sink into the sky. There was a cramp in his chest that felt like a fist, his breaths coming in unsteady and doing nothing to ease the pressure and his frantically racing heart. He was shaking all over and he could imagine himself breaking into tiny pieces right there and then. Jisung looked over to Chenle, the older was hugging his knees, his face buried into his arms as his shoulders shook. “Chenle,” he rasped, throat scratchy, “We have to go.”

Chenle raised his head, eyes red and miserable. “You’re annoying and I don’t like you.”

Jisung didn’t respond to that incoherent sentence, knowing that this was what the other needed right now. Instead, he got up and tugged Chenle to his feet, pulling him into a fierce hug and letting the other bury his face into his chest. “It’s not a human anymore,” he murmured into his hair, not knowing who he was reassuring, “You remember what Jaemin said right? It’s a virus-infected brain piloting a mass of rotting flesh. Nothing more.”

“It looked like a human,” Chenle’s voice was muffled but audible, “And it behaved like one. _This was a human_.”

They could probably have spent the next thirty minutes continuing to have a breakdown about it but Jisung was saved from having to answer by the appearance of an Infected at the end of the alley. He froze, too stunned to react and seize the knife at their feet. Unexpectedly, the Infected, a man that looked like he was in his late twenties, shifted its gaze to the headless body at their feet. It shuffled forward, still staring at the corpse. Chenle, having finally realised the newcomer, jerked back from Jisung. They snatched up the box and made a break for it, slowing to a stop when they glanced back and found the Infected not following them at all. It was kneeling next to the female, seemingly perplexed as it nudged at the shoulder. They were dangerously close to twilight and since neither of them were particularly keen on observing any further they quickly made their way back to Yonsei, thankfully only meeting a few Infected along the way which they ducked into alleyways to avoid.

Back in the lab, Jisung relinquished the box that had been tucked under his arm to Jaemin. Tucked under his other arm was Chenle, the shorter boy curled up at his side, uncharacteristically silent. Jaemin’s heavy gaze rested on him, contemplative. Jisung was half afraid of him saying something tactless but to his relief, he merely turned away and headed to the back rooms of the lab where he did his work. “Did everything go alright?” Jeno asked and started a series of perfunctory questions about their condition and the situation outside. “You should get some rest,” He finally ended, patting Chenle’s head gently.

“It’s,” Jisung hesitated, not quite sure if he should bring it up now. At Jeno’s questioning gaze, he decided to forge on, pulling Chenle into his side. “They’re…not human anymore, right?”

Neither of them missed the way Chenle immediately tensed, although he still hadn’t lifted his head. “No,” Jeno answered, voice definite. “The virus infects and gradually takes full control of the brain. The Infected are essentially brain-dead puppets being controlled by a parasitic entity.”

“But how do you know if the brains are fully infected?” Jisung persisted. “Is there a chance that some part of the brain is still human?”

Jeno opened his mouth and closed it, eyebrows furrowing. “You should ask Jaemin about that,” Jeno said slowly. “He had been doing experiments on mice and while it shows a semblance of progression rather than an immediate shut down, that doesn’t mean that an infected brain has a chance of retaining autonomy or somehow staying resistant to infection.” Jeno sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m sorry that I let you two go alone. I should have gone with you two.”

Jisung shrugged, not really minding the apology either way. What’s done is done. He says as such and receives a bleak smile back. “Jeno…” he started again, remembering that odd incident. He tells the older about the weird encounter with the Infected that didn’t give chase to them. Jeno listened with his eyebrows furrowed and promised to relay the information to Jaemin before waving them off. “You heard him,” Jisung whispered later when he had more or less shoved Chenle into a shower and wrapped his trembling form up in blankets. “They’re not human anymore.”

In the pitch darkness of the room and the world outside, Jisung lay on his side for hours until Chenle’s breath evened out, until Jeno came in and collapsed ungracefully into a couch, even until Jaemin came in with a stack of papers that crinkled softly until that too, fell silent. He lay on his side and replayed the afternoon again and again, superimposing a human’s visage onto the Infected, and wondered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do zombies deserve rights?


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NCT DREAM FIXED UNIT AHHHHHHH. I know I said weekly updates but THIS CALLS FOR A CELEBRATION
> 
> There are some technical terms here but they aren't central to the plot so don't worry if you get confused. I will post an explanation at the end of the story/chapter to explain the pathology of the virus that I imagined. 
> 
> If this feels like a filler chapter, yeeesss it is a little because I need to bridge a gap and lay out the foundation for what's going to happen next. As always, remember the trigger warning up there.

“No, I will not.”

“C’mon, it’s going to be the last time, I promise – ”

“You said that the last time, and the time before that and – ”

“Okay I get it! But can you blame me? Science takes time after all.”

“Just come out with it and say that you know jackshit about what you’re doing, Lee Donghyuck.”

Lee Donghyuck exhaled loudly in exasperation, glaring at his friend. Hwang Renjun merely stared back at him blankly, nonplussed. He even had the audacity to raise an elegantly arched eyebrow, the little shit. No one has any right to have eyebrows that groomed in the middle of the damn apocalypse. “I told you,” he began, struggling to reign in his temper, “I’m a pharmacist, not a scientist. I don’t have a team, there are barely any functional labs to find out how this thing works – ”

“And your solution is to throw every known drug at the poor mouse, hoping that one of them is going to be the miracle cure.” Renjun rubbed at his temples, giving out a magnificently loud sigh that blew Donghyuck’s right out of the waters of mutual irritation.

“I made _some_ progress,” Donghyuck hedged, fiddling with the buttons of his lab coat.

Renjun snatched the papers off the lab bench, ignoring Donghyuck’s protests of sterility, waving it in his face. “Your data is inconsistent,” he pointed out, “Whatever candidates you’ve been trying works so sporadically it’s practically a literal stab in the dark.” He dropped the papers back down, stepping forward so that he’s all up in Donghyuck’s face, delicate features set and grim. For all his physical fragility, Renjun has never once left anyone in doubt of his ferocity and steel. He’s such a fucking Aries, it makes Donghyuck sick. “This isn’t working, either you figure out a better way to do this, or you find someone who has a better idea. You can’t continue sending me hunting for zombie brains every day while you drain resources on something you’re not even sure of.”

Donghyuck turned away from him in lieu of answering. Renjun has a point and he knew it. He wouldn’t have been so insufferable otherwise. Though, Donghyuck grudgingly admitted to himself, it wasn’t anything that he hadn’t been fretting to himself for a while. Renjun just happened to be the one with the shorter patience to continue taking it silently.

“Well, what do you suggest then?” he finally said, trying to make himself sound less resigned and more snappy. He wouldn’t give in to Renjun without putting up at least some token resistance.

“Contact people.” Renjun said immediately, as though he had been waiting for the question. “Put that network of yours to good use for once and get in contact with people who are still working on it. Maybe if you had another brain you wouldn’t be stuck doing the same dumb thing.”

Donghyuck bit back a retort on that, forcing himself to focus on the heart of the issue. “I _told_ you, there’s barely anyone working on it. Half my network left me on read and the other half is useless.”

“Ask them for _their_ networks then,” Renjun pressed without missing a beat, “Or, I don’t know, tweet something!”

Donghyuck actually laughed aloud at that, “You think anyone is going to be on social media? Now? In this economy?” Just the thought itself was ludicrous. Electricity was precious enough as it is, he couldn’t imagine anyone wasting battery or risk overwhelming their shaky Wi-Fi connection just to do something as mundane as scrolling through Facebook. “How do you know if the webpage is even going to load?”

Renjun shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning against the lab bench, ignoring Donghyuck’s hiss. “It’s the 21st century. More people know how to use social media than the radio. If you’re going to scream into the void hoping for a response, that’s your best bet.”

“Yeah, sure, maybe I’ll do just that,” muttered Donghyuck as he sat down heavily on the swivel chair, pulling up the excel sheet where he logged his record to peruse it tiredly. The endless list of drugs stared back at him, the letters and numbers swimming like a gigantic alphabet soup on the screen. Renjun clasped his shoulder as he made to leave, “I left my daily dose of blood on the bench.”

“EDTA?”

“I spun it down for you too. Decanted the supernatant even.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know.”

Donghyuck waited until Renjun’s steps started to fade away before he spoke again, soft and unsure. “Do you really think so? That I’m wasting my time?”

Renjun’s footsteps paused, the heavy doors swinging shut. “I don’t want you to kill yourself over this, Donghyuck.”

He couldn’t help but let out a soft huff of exasperated amusement and fondness. “Hey. We’re all going to die. _Screw_ the virus. Let me go down trying to kill this bitch.”

/

“Wake up,” a voice hissed, right next to his ear. Jisung startled, blindly swinging out as he blinked awake. His flailing hand solidly connected with someone who grunted, grabbing his hand and stilling it. As his vision swam into awareness Jisung realised that Jaemin was bent over him, eyebrows furrowed as he rubbed at his cheek disgruntledly, Jisung’s offending hand still gripped tightly in his.

“What.” He deadpanned, not awake enough to care much for formalities.

“Show some manners, brat,” Jaemin snapped half-heartedly, his voice lacking bite as he tossed Jisung’s hand away. “It’s your turn today.”

Jisung was already easing himself out from under Chenle’s arm, rubbing his eyes. He nodded at the sleeping form of his friend, “Keep an eye on him.”

They were silent as they prepared breakfast in the tiny pantry. Jisung had never been a morning person and several months with them had taught him that the same applied to an uncaffeinated Jaemin. “Is he…still having nightmares?” Jaemin asked as he sipped at his oversized mug of black coffee, uncharacteristically hesitant.

Jisung grunted, gnawing at a stale piece of bread. “He doesn’t talk about it – ” because god help the day Zhong Chenle willingly talks about _heartfelt_ stuff with Jisung, “ – but he’s having trouble falling asleep and even when he does I don’t think he’s sleeping very well.” Jisung shoved the last of the bread into his mouth and headed back to the lounge to pick up his weapons. Despite how annoying Jaemin has been, he and Jeno had been remarkably helpful in teaching them how to handle the Infected. Jisung slid a boning knife under his jacket and folded the leg of his pants over his boots where a smaller knife was concealed. He patted himself down, checking for his screwdriver and hammer.

“They’re not human,” Jaemin voice echoed suddenly from behind him. Jisung’s fingers jerked as he was pulling up the zipper of his jacket. It was getting warm but Jisung was still reluctant to part from the safety of a thick jacket. When he turned, Jaemin was looking conflicted, gnawing at his already chapped lips.

“I know that,” Jisung replied, making to move past him after a quick glance to check on Chenle.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Jaemin blurted as Jisung brushed past him. “If it makes you uncomfortable you don’t have to go.”

Jisung paused, resisting the urge to laugh. “Are you kidding?” he fought to keep the mockery out of his voice, “You and Jeno are too valuable to go out more often than necessary and Chenle doesn’t handle it well, even if he pretends otherwise.” He spreads his arms, motioning to himself with a crooked smile, “Who else is left? And besides,” Jisung steamrolled on over Jaemin’s impending protests, “It’s a bit too late for this, I think.”

The line of Jaemin’s mouth flattened but he looked away, glaring angrily at a corner with something that looked a little like guilt in his eyes. Jisung would tell him to knock it off if he tried to do something stupid like apologise. “Whatever, I warned you about it right at the beginning anyway. Months and months ago.” _There_ it is, the Jaemin-brand defensiveness. He can barely bring himself to feel surprised. “I don’t know if we should continue this because I have a feeling that it’s getting dangerous. No, you shut up for a minute,” Jaemin stabs a finger at him, “So you know how I work with fresh samples?” Yes, Jisung did know. He was nagged about it every single time he stepped out. “The infected mice are behaving differently from before.”

Now that caught his attention. “What do you mean?”

Jaemin motioned to him to leave the lounge, leaving Chenle to doze on peacefully. “Jeno figured out that it’s a RNA virus, meaning that it mutates very quickly.” He clarified upon seeing Jisung’s expression. “And it has an unusually long sequence and Jeno’s results are suggesting that the genome is packed with duplicate genes.”

“Can I have a translation?” Jisung asked dryly as they strolled into the lab towards where Jeno was holed up in the corner with his massive glasses and even bigger computer.

“Stop confusing the child, Jaemin,” Jeno rebuked mildly, pulling off his glasses to rub at his eyes roughly. For someone with such perfect bone structure, Jeno sure is treating it like a tabletop. “What he’s trying to say is that this virus is capable of evolving very quickly and possibly developing new characteristics _and_ we’re seeing it in the mice that Jaemin’s experimenting on. They’re…learning.”

Jisung felt as though he was doused with a bucket of icy cold water. “Learning?” his voice came out more high-pitched than he intended. “You mean they can think? Like a human? I thought you said that they were ‘brain-dead puppets being controlled by a parasitic entity’”, he quoted, “and that they can’t think for themselves.”

“Yes, and they’re still not human!” Jaemin corrected irritably, though he sounded unsure. “They just show signs of being able to recall and respond to repeated stimuli – ”

“ – which, coincidentally, happens to involve a part of the brain that is in charge of intentional muscle motion, thinking, speech, emotions – ”

“ – so what we have on our hands is a horde of zombies who could very well be becoming more intelligent.”

Jisung stared at them. Neglecting the panic-inducing bit about smart zombies, that sounded an awful lot like half-human zombies. “So…do I still kill them or no?”

“Yes, please do.” Jaemin gritted out, somehow managing to sound sarcastic with the three words. “I’m just warning you that the Infected are possibly going to be more dangerous from now on so you have to be more careful, or at least go with a partner.”

Jeno let out a loud groan, slouching down in his swivel chair. “We need more people,” his eyes were glassy as he stared at the ceiling, “We’re overworked and understaffed. Jaemin, I want to lodge a complaint to the Head of Student Welfare. This PhD project is ridiculous.” Jaemin, unbelievably, huffed a laugh at that, leaning over to comb Jeno’s hair back with skinny fingers. “Put up a job ad then,” he suggested sardonically, “Wanted: Research Assistant at the Severance Biomedical Science Institute. Benefits: free lodging and instant ramen.”

“Maybe I will,” Jeno retorted mutinously, sitting up suddenly and knocking Jaemin’s hand away. He pulled the keyboard to himself, the wires trailing behind like entrails and started typing away furiously.

Jisung took that as a cue to leave, waving as he left the lab. He took the route that was familiar to him by now, checking the CCTV before emerging into the streets. In a split second, he drove the boning knife into an Infected lingering just outside the doorway. He carefully dragged the now fully dead corpse aside, making a mental note to bug Jaemin about the waste disposal. Recently, Jisung has had a niggling feeling that there was a worryingly high number of bodies to be disposed of, but maybe it was just him. He was pretty sure that Jaemin would have started complaining if it was so.

He set off in the direction of Insadong, the opposite way from Hongik. They had been expanding their sample area and Jisung found himself walking for hours more often than not just to get to a new location for samples. Today the designated zone was Sindang-dong, absurdly far and likely to take at least a few hours on foot. Jisung wouldn’t be surprised if this was a secret ploy by Jaemin to kill him accidentally on purpose. 

The March sky was milky gray, sunlight peering through to look down sadly at the remnants of her creation. Jisung padded quietly along the street, sliding around corners at the slightest sound. Considering his journey today, he had no interest in wasting time and energy fighting off the Infected. He went through two tunnels before reaching Gyeongbokgung, where he climbed up a stack of soju crates he had systematically arranged months prior to clamber over the walls and into the palace.

When victims of the outbreak started rising steeply, tourist attractions were the first places to be shut down by the government in a bid to reduce social contact. Unbelievably, some people got it into their heads that it would be a good idea to hold a protest at Gwanghwamun square. As though impeaching the president would do any good about the whole epidemic! It went on for months until it stopped.

Abruptly.

Violently.

As much as Jisung’s stomach had strengthened itself, it had attempted to turn around on itself the first time he walked past the deserted square and saw the mess; bodies – rotting, half-eaten, reanimated – amidst the abandoned signboards gaily coloured in red and blue and filthy picnic mats trampled in the chaos. Within the stone walls of the palace, he was concealed from what remained of the war. Jisung lets his fingers trail over the rough stone and linger on the red paint of the wooden doorways, marvelling at its stoic witness of her people’s rise and fall throughout the centuries. Left untended, the gardens of the palace had started to become overgrown, little green buds peeking out from skeletal branches draped messily over the grounds.

A lone cherry blossom, much too early for its siblings, floated down when the wind blew. Jisung caught it gently with one hand, tucking that sole bit of softness carefully into his jacket before he made his way through the rest of the maze-like structure and towards his destination.

Hours later, Jisung trudged miserably back to Sinchon, freshly harvested zombie heads stuffed deep into the ice box. It was getting dark and he was hungry, cold and frankly tired of this. Just as he was starting the essay that he was preparing to launch onto Jaemin the moment he got back (a developing pattern Jisung had noticed and was endlessly exploiting was that, cranky as Jaemin’s default seemed to be, dinners are unusually luxurious on the days when Jisung strategically whined), he heard the crack of a twig from behind him.

Every sense in him snapped to attention, sleepiness vanishing without a trace. He whirled around, hand landing onto the knife he had strapped to his belt. The streets were bare save for some dried leaves and he straightened up in puzzlement. He was sure that he had heard something. Jisung waited for a few minutes, straining his ears to hear for the tell-tale sign of unwanted people but heard nothing. He turned back warily, hastening his footsteps and pulling the knife out of his belt.

He and Chenle had learnt early on that the Infected weren’t the only ones roaming for victims in the cover of night. The orange glow of the sunset shone down on him mockingly. Bright as it was, it was a sign of the impeding darkness that would fall, sudden and consuming. It wasn’t until he reached the first tunnel that would lead him to Seodaemun when it happened.

The sound of a footfall, he spun around to face a man whose eyes widened and as he raised his knife, something smashed heavily onto his head from behind. There was nothing dramatic or drawn-out about it – he just had enough time to loudly swear “ _damn muggers!_ ” – pain exploded for a split-second and the next, nothing. 

When he came to, he was propped up against the door of an empty café, stripped bare of everything of worth. Jisung struggled to sit up, fighting the pain that pounded through his head at the movement. It was completely dark by now and Jisung cursed his assailants to hell and back when the wind blew, raising goosebumps on the exposed skin of his torso. The situation was way too dire for him to feel self-conscious about the fact that they left him with nothing but his damn pants.

Fuck, he swore under his breath, frantically patting himself down for his cell phone only to find it gone. Fuck fuck fuck.

Jisung tried to pull himself to his feet, swaying in place as he did so and trampling on the cherry blossom that had fallen from his torso. In the distance, the howl of an Infected sounded, echoed by the excited cries of his companions. Jisung wished that it was those assholes who mobbed him. He cast another glance down himself, desperately looking for something that could be salvaged from this disaster. They had taken everything from him, even the ice box where he had stored the samples he walked so bloody far for.

He fought the urge to kick the glass windows of the café in. 

“Okay, let’s calm down,” he muttered to himself. With a blow to the head like that, he had to take a look at it but Jeno was far, far away from him now and he could imagine the look on Jaemin’s and Chenle’s face if he tried to make his way back now, weaponless and practically blind. With no other choice, he decided to take shelter in the café. His fingers clumsily fumbled with the door handle and his heart fell to his stomach when it held tight. Locked.

Shit. He swore again, weighing the pros and cons of smashing the window in. With the streets in complete darkness and his head aching like how he imagined a hangover to be, he didn’t dare to make any noise that would draw the attention of any lingering Infected. Just then, he became aware of a wetness sliding down his back. He lifted a hand and hissed, his fingers coming back wet from where he had brushed the back of his head. Even without any light, he could see the darkness of blood on his fingers. He stared at the blood with a mix of resignation and exasperation. He really can’t catch a break, can he? Suppressing a sigh, Jisung steeled his resolve and started the agonising journey back.

The good thing about walking back in the darkness was that there was no way for the Infected to recognise him. Contrary to the numerous zombie films he had watched throughout his meagre eighteen years of life, the Infected wandering around Seoul didn’t appear to have an enhanced sense of smell. He and Chenle had spent a few weeks testing their theory that they relied on visual recognition for their prey, much like humans would, if humans behaved like rabid animals.

Well. Now was a good time as any to prove their hypothesis. If they were right, Jisung could make it back with relatively no incident so long as he kept to the sides and his ears peeled. That’s if he doesn’t encounter zombies with 20/20 vision. Then he’s screwed.

The trembling that had started earlier was progressing to a full-on shaking by now as the exhaustion and cold caught up to his body. Jisung wrapped his arms around himself, trying in vain to retain whatever heat he could. Karma must be hitting him for complaining about the walk earlier because this walk felt like it was lasting forever. A slope upwards, then downwards, a crossroads, another slope up, Jisung repeated the route in his head like a mantra as he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and keeping the dizziness at bay while blood continued to drip steadily. Head wounds bleed the most, Jisung assured himself, trying to stop himself from going into full panic mode. After an eternity, he finally, finally, emerged from the last tunnel. Jisung stopped for a moment to take a breather, relief pouring over him when he spied the gates of Yonsei in the distance and –

Two figures were in the street just ahead of him.

Shit. He had no way of fighting back, whatever the hell it was. One of the figures started moving towards him rapidly, steady enough that Jisung knew it wasn’t an Infected. “Park Jisung!” a furious voice whisper-yelled at him.

Jisung had never been so glad to hear that voice before.

Jaemin’s hands landed on his bare shoulders, drawing away almost immediately in shock. “What the hell, why are you naked?”

“Got jumped,” he mumbled, letting himself lean against Jaemin. The other figure joined them and Jisung recognised Chenle’s white face over Jaemin’s shoulder. Despite the leanness of Jaemin’s body, he held Jisung securely as he and Chenle assessed the damage. What followed was a clumsy stumble back to the lab where Jaemin supported him while Chenle darted ahead to clear the way.

“What happened?” Jeno’s voice demanded sharply, the bright light making his eyes squint. He groaned as they dumped him ungracefully onto the couch. Chenle’s hands fluttered around uselessly as Jaemin dragged bandages and bottles out of a first aid kit to disinfect his head wound and wrap it up. “Sorry, Jaemin,” he said apologetically, fidgeting in place, “They took everything from me, including the ice box so I don’t have the samples. I can go out tomorrow – ”

“You will do no such thing,” Jeno and Jaemin thundered in unison. Chenle tried, but his voice was much too high-pitched to sound even vaguely intimidating. “You’re going to stay at home and recover from this.” Jaemin seethed, finishing up the knot. “But first, I want you to tell me who those bastards are so I can beat the shit out of them for even _daring_ to lay a hand on one of mine.” He stormed off and Jeno sighed, throwing him a helpless look.

“Jaemin gets a bit overexcited sometimes,” Jeno explained gently as he scrolled through a webpage on his battered iPhone. He squinted at the screen, shoving his glasses up his nose roughly as he rattled off questions from a site labelled “SIGNS OF A CONCUSSION FOR DUMMIES: WHAT TO DO AND WHEN TO GET HELP.”

Jisung answered them dutifully and Jeno eventually put down the phone with a satisfied smile. “You don’t seem to have a concussion, which is great because none of us here are doctors and you would be dead otherwise. I don’t feel confident enough to perform surgery using WebMD.” He reached over to ruffle his hair before thinking better of it and drawing it back just in time for Jaemin to burst through the door again brandishing a hastily made cold compress and packets of medicine. He thrust the items to Jisung who fumbled to catch it. “Take this if the pain gets overwhelming,” he instructed brusquely, “I need you to stay awake for 24 hours. I’ll take the first watch.” His voice brooked no argument and Jisung was forcibly reminded of his own mother.

Picking up the cue to leave, Jeno took Chenle by the elbow and lead him out, the latter still looking unreasonably distressed. Jisung wasn’t even dead, for God’s sake. “Jaemin, hyung,” Jisung started urgently as soon as they left and something more distressing registered in his mind, “They took my phone.”

Jaemin froze, fingers stilling on the packet of painkillers. “Do you have my number saved?”

Jisung swallowed, “Yes,” he whispered. 

Jaemin was silent for a moment before shoving the painkillers to Jisung. He pushed him down on the couch far gentler than Jisung would have expected, tucking the blanket securely around him. Jisung complied with the fussing, though rather confusedly. “Jaemin, did you hear – ?”

“Yes, I did,” Jaemin cut him off, settling down next to him with a stack of papers and a pen, “There’s nothing we can do about that now. We’ll deal with it as it comes. If they do.” He started to rifle through the papers, clicking his pen impatiently as he scrawled notes in the margins, the dim yellow light casting more shadows than it should on his smooth, hollowed cheeks. Jisung frowned and settled against the cushions, uneasy but knowing that the discussion was over. “Don’t sleep,” Jaemin’s voice broke the peace almost immediately. Jisung rolled his eyes. “If you’re sleepy you can look through these papers with me.” With a sigh, he sat up taking the papers from Jaemin and resigning himself to an eight hour study session.

/

“Jaemin,” Jeno’s voice urgently called as he hurried into the lounge, followed closely by Chenle. Jisung blinked his eyes back into focus from where he had been staring blankly at the walls of incomprehensible letters. Picorna something, IRES and something else that was a confusing 8-figure long jumble of random letters and numbers that looked like a default password. He felt like he was in Mandarin classes at high school again where he spent so much time trying to decipher the meaning of an individual character that he ended up completely forgetting the beginning of the sentence.

“What,” Jaemin mumbled grouchily, eyes still glued to the paper with laser focus.

Jeno came to a stop in front of them, demanding attention. Chenle reached over to brush Jisung’s hair, silently concerned. Jisung patted his hand back, gripping it briefly in question. In the chaos of everything, Jisung hadn’t yet had a chance to speak to his friend and check on him. “The Infected are coming.”

Jaemin finally looked up at that, eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

Jeno took a deep breath, starting over, “The number of Infected has increased since last night.”

“Are you sure?” Jaemin sat up straight, as alert as if he hadn’t spent the whole night alternating between shoving Jisung awake roughly and perusing tiny words with a startling efficiency.

“Positive,” Chenle spoke up, “I keep a count of the average Infected around our building every morning and there’s at least a two-fold increase today.” Jaemin had already gotten up to stride over to the windows, pulling the blinds back slightly. They joined him, Jisung peering over Jaemin’s shoulder. Under the blinding morning sunshine, the Infected were wandering around the main street of Yonsei, a worryingly high number clustered around the door to which they enter the building.

“That’s pretty unusual behaviour,” Jaemin noted tersely, gaze fixed on the bunch congregated below, “Did we do something unusual yesterday?” Almost as a unit, three pairs of eyes turned to Jisung. “No, that can’t be right,” Jaemin scowled, “They can’t smell us and if they did, they would have arrived much sooner.” He turned back to the window, gnawing at his chapped lips, “Not to mention they would have swarmed Jisung last night if they could scent his blood.”

“But they can see.” Jisung spoke up, his mind fumbling to make sense of everything. “You said that they were becoming smarter. They might have followed the blood trail I made.”

The pair of scientists stared at him in befuddlement, mouths parted. “No way,” Jeno said, voice hoarse, “They can’t be _that_ smart.”

Jaemin laughed, a short, sharp sound. “Oh yes, they can.” He threw the blinds back, going back to the couch where he picked up the papers again. “Jeno, we were right. Damn it, we were bloody right.” His voice rose in volume, sounding plenty pissed for someone who was just proven correct. “I didn’t want to believe it even when the data said otherwise but here it is! It’s right there below us.”

“How is that possible?” Chenle asked, wrinkling his nose. “Doesn’t this virus basically take over the brain?”

“The virus infects the neurons to control the body,” Jaemin corrected as he snatched up a cup of coffee to down in one shot, “But the recent samples you have been bringing back suggested that the virus may be mutating to develop selectivity in the neurons it infects. It seems to infect the cerebellum at a relatively lower rate compared to the other parts of the brain. A twisted sort of cellular tropism if you will.”

“So they can think?” Chenle pressed, fingers digging into Jisung’s shoulder.

“Yes and no,” Jeno answered, tapping his chin in thought, “The brain is a ridiculously complex organ. What determines a thought? What _causes_ a thought? The firing of neurons, which are basically the flow of ions across a channel? Up till now Jaemin and I have been using the neurodegenerative disease model to understand this virus. Virus infects cell, cell function altered, neuron firing reworked and the subsequent thought and muscular action wired to fit the needs of the virus.” Jeno walked over to gently pry the jug of coffee out of Jaemin’s hands, setting it down on the table. “Relinquishing some control of the brain makes sense from the perspective of the virus. Instead of piloting an entirely useless lump of flesh, it allows enough autonomy that it can use that little bit of innate intelligence to its advantage. Let’s take for example a patient with an advanced stage of prion disease,” Jeno continued, taking a sip of the coffee himself, “Would you consider the involuntary movements and altered behaviour to be a direct decision from the person? Of course not, it’s all because of the pathological agent. But if the pathological agent has occupied 90% of the brain, it becomes very difficult to draw clear lines on how ‘human’ they are or even how much of the original person is still in there, particularly if they are displaying vicious behaviour and trying to eat us like our friends down below.”

“But the fact that they were human before,” Chenle started, trailing off with a frown.

“Yes, of course we still afford them the basic human rights of respect,” Jeno said agreeably, “We don’t mutilate them for fun after we kill them, don’t we? We burn them, which is the closest to a funeral pyre that you can get.”

“We still kill them,” Jisung mumbled, thoroughly confused and conflicted. “Would that make us murderers? Especially now, when you say that they are capable of thought?”

“I didn’t say that,” Jaemin said quietly from where he was standing at the window, looking down at the zombies with a pensive gaze. “Like what Jeno said, what makes us human? Why is it acceptable to kill them, but not us? Rip their heads off and dig their brains out without their consent, and basically treat them as we do to mice? We can’t claim self-defence anymore.” Jaemin sighed, moving away from the window to stand in front of them with a steady, searching gaze. “We reasoned to ourselves that humanity is defined by the ability to rationalise, or at least have a higher level of cognitive function compared to the average mouse. Obviously that opens up a whole new can of worms, but we chose to ignore it because in science, it’s always a choice of the greater good, however murky the ethical framework may be.” Without warning, he spun towards Jeno angrily, “See! This is why I didn’t want to send them out to do this. Now the children are traumatised and it’s all your fault!”

Jeno looked understandably bewildered by the abrupt change in mood, raising his hands in surrender. Jaemin glowered at him for a moment more before turning back to them, mouth still twisted in a scowl. “Anyway, we’re going to take turns keeping watch for the next 48 hours. Get ready, we might have to jump ship.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has one of my favourite scenes. Jaemin's massive speech up there is one of the central thoughts that I have been turning over and over in my head with regards to zombies and is arguably one of the key drivers for starting this story in the first place. I'm excited to hear your thoughts about this!
> 
> Do zombies deserve rights?


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weekly updates, I said, as I finished pretty much the entire thing. I'm reviewing bits here and there so the whole thing should be up by the end of this week. 
> 
> Geeky terms of the day:  
> Fetal Bovine Serum: A nutrient-rich component in the recipe to make media for growing cells

As the sun steadily rose, the horde of zombies continued to increase at a panic-inducing rate. The worst thing was that they weren’t even trying to break down the door in a way that would set them off to a fight-or-flight mode. They were just there. Strolling around the campus like ants around a sugary donut and essentially barricading them in. Jisung touched the back of his head gingerly, fiddling with the knot tied there until Chenle slapped his hand away. 

“If we end up having to run and I fall back, leave me behind with a gun,” Jisung spoke up, keeping his gaze out the window.

“Well, duh,” Chenle replied without missing a beat, prompting a snort out of him, “It’s your own damn fault for going off alone and leaving me to sleep like a pig.”

The conversation ended there, the two of them sitting in companionable silence while Chenle did his weird yoga thing and Jisung did something more reasonable like sharpening his knives. “Want to go check up on them?” Chenle finally said, coming out of an interesting twist with a sigh of relief. Jisung jumped to his feet immediately, excited at the prospect of prodding Jaemin, who was no doubt in a state of dignified internal panic. They headed into the lab and almost crashed into Jeno who rounded the corner, his normally placid gaze wide with urgency.

“Have you seen Jaemin?” he asked breathlessly before they could edge in an apology.

“He’s probably dealing with the mice,” Chenle started to say but Jeno cut him off, shaking his head.

“I checked all the places he could be but I couldn’t find him,” Jeno rushed, shifting in place restlessly. He paused, looking like he had an epiphany, “You don’t think he left the building, do you?”

“He’s a grad student,” Jisung snorted, “He can’t be that stupid.”

“You would be surprised,” Jeno replied ominously. “How’s the situation down below?”

Chenle shrugged, trying and failing to look nonchalant. “They’ve been increasing.”

Jeno frowned, putting down the laptop he had been clutching. “That isn’t good. Okay, pack up. Take as much food as you need, and as many weapons as you can.”

“We’re leaving?” Jisung asked in surprise. “Where?”

Jeno turned around, biting his lip in thought. “Not now, but…I put up an ad asking for more manpower – ”

“You mean begging – ”

“ – to borrow without returning supplies that you guys are running out of – ”

“ – and I got a response,” Jeno continued loudly as though they haven’t spoken, “Someone over at Suwon is working on this thing and I think we should join them.” Jeno stopped and smiled at them, complete with eye crescents and all, clearly blind to the millions of flaws in the plan. Chenle liked to remind Jisung of his idiocy at least twice a day but even he could see how this could go horribly, horribly wrong. 

Chenle snapped his jaw shut from where it had started to hang open progressively wider. He opened it again before closing, throwing a baffled, helpless look to Jisung. “Jeno, hyung,” Jisung tried, as though speaking in honorifics could make soften his words. He and Chenle had been the unfortunate victim of witnessing the puncture of Jeno’s happy bubble a few times and neither were keen to revisit it. They were heartless enough on a daily basis. At Jeno’s questioning gaze, all semblance of determination vanished and he blurted in a rush, “Did you talk to Jaemin about this?” Chenle threw him a dirty look, no doubt noticing his change of heart.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m looking for him,” Jeno turned to leave the lounge.

“Yes, Jeno, please do enlighten me on why there are,” Jaemin glanced at his phone, subtly wiping his hands on his pants from where he had suddenly appeared in the entrance to the lounge, “Eleven notifications when we promised to use our phones sparingly.”

Jeno lit up at his appearance, “I got a response to that ad you told me to put up! Jaemin, we’re going to Suwon!”

Jisung would have paid to screenshot that expression of complete disbelief that twisted Jaemin’s pretty features in that moment. There was a beat of silence, then, “What the fuck?”

Jeno looked, _unbelievably_ – how is this guy real? – surprised by the vehemence of his reply. “I mean, isn’t it coming at a perfect timing?” Jeno started unsurely, picking up his laptop from where it had been abandoned on a table and hugging it to his chest. “The zombies are surrounding us and if they stay here for longer than two weeks we would have to cease all our experiments. Not to mention the food,” he tacked on as an afterthought, “Jisung finished the last ramen packet yesterday.”

There was an audible sigh. Jisung didn’t bother turning to check who it came from. “Jeno, how do you know that it isn’t a scam?”

At this, Jeno flipped his laptop open, shoving his smudged glasses up his nose. “I checked this guy’s LinkedIn profile, take a look.” The profile page of someone named Lee Donghyuck glowed back at him, listing him as “Graduate, Research Institute of Pharmaceutical Science and Technology (RIPST)”, complete with a little icon of a mortarboard at the side. The tiny picture showed a tanned male in his twenties, grinning mischievously at the camera as he brandishes a half-filled beaker with more vigour than necessary.

“You trust that?” Jisung broke in at the same time Jaemin sniffed derisively, “He’s a _pharmacist_.” They paused, glancing at each other quizzically.

“How do you even plan to get out of here, anyway?” Chenle wrinkled his nose in thought.

Jeno smiled at them serenely.

/

The plan was ridiculous.

Not like it mattered. Jisung and Jaemin spent close to a week alternating between pleading and yelling while Jeno calmly and unusually obstinately set about corresponding with their strange would-be benefactor (?) and putting things in order while the zombies continued increasing inexplicably outside. At one point Jisung swore he heard banging on the door. Jaemin caved after four days when he held up the last 50 mL aliquot of fetal bovine serum with a sigh. Jisung put up a fight for a while more until Jaemin informed him cheerfully that he was free to stay behind.

The plan made sense in theory. Hell, the problem wasn’t the plan. The problem was what they had to do.

Jeno claimed to have hacked the university’s system so all they had to do was wait for night to fall and turn on the floodlights in the soccer field that was at the opposite end of where their building was at. That would likely draw every single zombie in the vicinity and maybe even some curious humans. And that would give them the chance to leave the building and sneak away. The problem was how they were supposed to get to Suwon because a nice, comfortable SUV would be way too noisy. Therein lies Jisung’s biggest problem.

They were going to cycle.

It was suicidal. Jisung was sure of it. _Because he can’t fucking cycle_.

Jeno’s theory was that there would be a lower concentration of zombies on the freeway, a theory that Jisung grudgingly admitted to. The months of recon had shown him as much. Upon reaching Suwon, their contact would pick them up and “drive like hell till we make it to the lab”. Unlike Jaemin who was preoccupied with whether their contact was going to be shady and weird, Jisung didn’t give a crap about that. There really was no need to worry, in his opinion, because they might die before even reaching Suwon.

He held out for a grand total of four days until Jaemin crossed over to the dark side, at which point he promptly gave up his cause. Jaemin had left no shade of doubt that he would dump him there and leave with all the food and weapons if he didn’t comply. (“I won’t hesitate to leave you behind, so help me, learn how to cycle.”)

That was how Jisung ended up spending eighteen hours a day, for three days, trying to teach himself to cycle.

“It’s easy!” Chenle remarked from the couch while munching on a bag of Poca chips, watching Jisung fall over yet again. “You have, what? Three days? Day one: don’t fall. Day two: go uphill. Day three: race zombies. That’s not so bad!”

Easy for him to say. Jisung couldn’t even stay upright on the bicycle. “This is stupid,” he shoved the fancy-looking bicycle aside in exasperation after falling yet again. For a supposedly struggling student, Jaemin sure spent a pretty penny on this thing. “Why is Jaemin only bringing out his bicycle now? Couldn’t he have done it while I was walking halfway across Seoul to get his samples?” There was a momentary pause as both of them reached the same epiphany. Jisung closed his eyes. Chenle giggled.

God, he hopes Jaemin falls into the Han river.

“That’s not how you do it, Park Jisung!” Chenle yelled as Jisung somehow got his foot stuck in the chains, spraying chip crumbs over him.

“Gross!” he yelled back, flailing one hand while trying to free his other foot. Who even made this bicycle? Minions?

“You’re just a giant and! You! Suck!” Chenle shrieked, going a pitch higher with every step he took towards Jisung, ending three inches from his ear. Jisung jerked, wincing, getting ready to shove Chenle away with all his might. Maybe he could push him down the stairs if he tried hard enough. “You’re supposed to rest one foot on the pedal and push off with the other. Bring your foot to the pedal and just start pedalling.” Chenle guided his foot to the right places none too gently, placing his hands over the handlebars. “And stop being so tense, your centre of gravity is high enough as it is.”

As much as Jisung wanted to be petty and tell him that his advice sucked, it helped. A little. It was rather satisfying to give Jaemin a heart attack when he rounded the corner and almost crashed into the other with his own bicycle. Of course, the bicycle was promptly taken off his hands but it didn’t matter because he was marginally more confident of his cycling skills.

“Ready, guys?” Jeno smiled at them as he zipped up his jacket on the day that they were going to die.

No. “Yes.” Jaemin snorted but didn’t comment, focusing on taking stock of their preparations. The pile of supplies they had at the beginning was dwindling perilously low and with the zombie frat party lingering outside, they hadn’t had a chance to leave the building. Jaemin did end up getting that one right, after all. Oh, how he would gloat if he remembered.

The four of them gathered at one of the large windows that dotted the lab. Jaemin cautiously lifted the corner of the blind, trying to not let any light seep out. Jeno fiddled with his phone and the whole lab plunged into darkness, smiling gently when Jaemin threw him a grateful glance. Jaemin lifted the blinds fully, allowing them a full view of the entire Yonsei campus. At Jaemin’s nod, Jeno pulled the computer over and started tapping away. “With so many companies down, anti-virus software is at half its usual strength.” Jeno explained without taking his eyes off the screen. “It’s not that hard to hack systems now.”

A would-be mad scientist and a hacker. In an ideal world, they would win power couple of the year. He had no sooner finished his thought when the floodlights switched on, lighting up the stadium like a concert stage.

It was like looking into the sun.

The pitch darkness of Sinchon, dotted sporadically with orange glows from building windows here and there like fireflies, was lit up like –

“It looks like Seoul.” Chenle mumbled, sounding a little choked up.

“It _is_ Seoul, you idiot,” Jisung nudged him despite knowing exactly what he meant. It wasn’t even a year but he could already feel the memories of his home fraying at the edges like a well-worn photograph. The last time he saw light like this was the last Christmas he ever spent with his mom and brother. He ended up spending _Seollal_ with Chenle. At the corner of his eyes, he saw Jeno rise quietly and wrap an arm around Jaemin, who stood rigidly with his skinny arms crossed tightly around himself.

“They’re leaving,” Chenle whispered, stabbing a finger and smudging the glass. That broke the gloom, the four of them crowded closer to peek out. The Infected had lifted their heads and were looking towards the light. Bit by bit, they started moving towards the light and then they were running, howling and dashing at full speed towards the light.

“Now!” Jaemin commanded, voice cracking like a whip.

They rushed to the stairs, thundering their way down. Jisung’s heart was pounding in his chest, adrenaline zipping through his veins like a can of Red Bull. The light should distract them long enough but none of them were inclined to testing to see how long that would hold up. At the door, Jaemin checked the CCTV quickly before shoving the door open.

“You guys know the plan, c’mon! Let’s go!” Jaemin swung himself up the bicycle and set off, Chenle following close behind. Jisung followed suit, pedalling hard to catch up as Jeno tailed him. Their bicycles barely made a sound as they cycled down the streets, having been painstakingly oiled the day before. By Jeno’s reckoning and Jaemin’s data, the zombies seem to congregate around previously populated areas, either due to the higher incidence of food sources or some remnant of memory. Unfortunately, the shortest and most direct route involved having to go through some of the most densely populated neighbourhoods before they could get onto the freeway that would lead them straight to Suwon. Every other possible route risked prolonged exposure.

Behind them, Jisung could hear the excited howling of the Infected as more and more of them gathered in the football stadium. They cycled on, past Gyeongbokgung, down the main street of Gwanghwamun to Seoul station, circling around Namsan and crossing Hannam bridge. The icy wind blew his hair back from his face, dragging his hood down as they crossed the Han river, cold, silent and eternally watchful. It was terrifying cycling at full speed with only the light of the moon to guide them but none of them dared carry so much as a lightstick for fear of drawing attention. The backpack strapped to him barely bounced despite his speed, the cans of food securely muffled by the thick blanket he had wrapped around it. At his waist, the weight of his knife hung, a small comfort in this nightmare.

Jeno drew up next to him as they crossed the bridge and started cycling through Sinsa, reassured now that he hadn’t fallen off the bicycle five minutes in. Jeno’s black bicycle, with its solid plate wheels and low handles, resembled a Maserati in comparison to Jisung’s own eco-green Seoul Bike. “Doing all right, Jisungie?” Jeno asked, sounding barely winded. Jisung envied him, but also hated him a bit.

He opened his mouth to respond when a movement ahead caught his eye. Jeno’s head whipped to the front instantaneously. “Fuck! Jaemin!” He yelled, panic ripping his voice. There was the sound of a collision, metal screeching and the sound of bodies tumbling onto the floor, and Jaemin was on the ground, struggling to shove off an Infected bent over him, snarling and snapping.

Jisung stopped his bicycle, running to them as fast as he could, pulling out his knife as more movement appeared in his periphery vision. Jeno was already there, faster than Chenle even, who had overshot ahead and was doubling back. He dispatched the Infected with a neat cut, the movement so brutal that the growls cut off abruptly. “Go, go, go!” Jaemin’s voice was as panicked as Jisung had ever heard him, shoving Jeno away even as he stumbled on his feet and limped.

“Jaemin, your foot – ” Jeno started, but Jaemin pushed him away, more urgently than before. The sound of growling reached them and Jisung’s blood turned into ice in his veins.

“Jaemin, get onto my bicycle!” Jeno frantically pulled at Jaemin, only to be pushed away yet again.

“Stick to the plan!” Jaemin snarled, “Go, Chenle! If I get caught leave me behind!” Jisung wasted no time in running back to his bicycle and swinging himself up, dragging Jeno along forcibly. They started again, swerving around dangerously to avoid the Infected. Jeno and Jisung, through an unspoken agreement, flanked Jaemin on both sides while Chenle took the lead. Jaemin was holding up surprisingly well, pedalling furiously between the two of them. “Jaemin, they’re drawing too much attention.” Jeno’s voice was grim, just audible above the rising din the Infected were making.

Jaemin took a deep breath. “Plan B. Chenle, Plan B!”

In unison, they braked hard, swinging off their bicycles and running towards their pursuers. Jisung pulled out his carving knife as he ran, hearing the pounding of the others behind him. As he drew up to an Infected, he swung; once at the neck, followed quickly by stabbing in the general vicinity of the eye socket. He missed, the Infected gurgled, still reaching for him. Without missing a beat, he seized the Infected by the shoulder and wrenched him close enough to stab the knife cleanly through the eye. Around him, he could hear the sounds of the Infected being silenced similarly.

Jisung turned around, going through his mental checklist. His heart leapt to his throat and he watched as Jaemin totter on his bad leg, knife slipping through his fingers to clatter to the floor. Jisung didn’t even have to think, he leapt towards them, wrapping an arm around the Infected in a chokehold as he dragged him back, away from Jaemin. Jaemin snatched up his knife and stabbed, the knife going straight through the skull and narrowly missing Jisung’s cheek. He dropped the now fully-dead corpse, noting with a sort of detached horror that it was a young boy, probably around his age.

“Nice work,” Jaemin said breathlessly, “That’s character development from our first encounter.”

Jisung snorted at that, already picking up his bicycle to go after Jeno and Chenle, who had already started ahead. “Hurry up, I won’t hesitate to leave you behind,” he echoed Jaemin’s earlier words, receiving a wild grin in return. The two of them started pedalling again, side by side under the soft glow of the moon and a mutual respect forged by blood and steel.

/

Let’s go to Suwon, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. Jisung sure is having the time of his life pedalling like a maniac on the freeway now.

There was thankfully no further incident after that. Jaemin held out pretty well, leading the group at twice the speed when they crossed Gangnam. Once or twice they had to pause, breathing shallowly and as quietly as they could while a group of Infected passed them. “I told you,” Jaemin grunted when they started again, “They’re technically rotting bodies, without the proper nutrition their eyesight will deteriorate. That makes them practically blind at night.”

Once they left Seocho and entered the freeway, Jaemin started to lag behind. Jisung cast a glance back, even in the darkness Jaemin’s face was pale, the strain of cycling starting to take its toll. Before he could say anything, Jeno had slowed down and started to keep pace with Jaemin. “You guys know the way,” Jeno called out, “We’ll be right behind.”

“Light up the glow sticks,” Jaemin panted breathlessly, voice tight with pain. “We should be good now.”

Thank god for that. Jisung was starting to feel increasingly oppressed by the surrounding trees and eerily silent fields of the abandoned farms. He dug around in his jacket and cracked a glow stick alight, holding it against the handlebars with one hand as he continued pedalling. The glow of the sticks threw just enough light ahead for them to prepare for sudden turns or avoid a repeat performance of earlier. As planned, he took the lead, lighting the way for them.

“Should we take a break?” Chenle wheezed at about the three-hour mark. In unison, they turned back to look at Jaemin questioningly.

“We’re almost there,” Jeno answered in his stead, not even blinking at the big, fat, lie. Jisung would know, he had been keeping track of the signboards. They literally passed a signboard labelled SEOUL LAND ten minutes ago.

“Jeno, can’t you call your contact?” Jaemin sounded exhausted, somehow still managing to keep up with their vigorous speed. Jeno clearly noticed that, because he took out his phone without another word. He thumbed through his contacts and pressed it against his ear, not even swaying despite cycling one-handed.

“Donghyuck?” Jeno said, “Hello?”

Chenle threw him a look from where he had caught up to Jisung. “Huh, to think that there’s someone who has a sleep schedule as awful as yours.”

There was a series of hums and ahhs while Jeno explained their situation. He ended the call, looking pleased. “We can stop ahead. He said that he’ll drive over to pick us up.” They pulled over at a rest stop, the brakes barely making a sound across the empty parking lot. Jeno snapped a photo of the rest stop signboard and sent it to Donghyuck while Chenle helped Jaemin to slump down against a lamp post. They didn’t dare to get any closer to the actual building of the rest stop until they were sure that there weren’t any weird things in there. Jisung took one look at the hunched, shivering figure of Jaemin and started towards the building even before Jeno was done sending the picture.

“Where the hell are you going?” Jaemin demanded, miraculously managing to sound grumpy and imperious despite his awkward position.

“I’m going to check out the place,” he replied without stopping, “And maybe get some first aid supplies.”

“For what?”

“For _what_?” Jisung spun around in disbelief. “Have you seen your foot?” All eyes turned to Jaemin. Chenle brought the light stick towards his foot and they collectively winced at the swollen mass that was Jaemin’s ankle. Jeno was the first one to speak, voice choked, “Jaemin, how the fuck have you been cycling on that?”

“It’s fine,” Jaemin predictably brushed it off, even as a gust of wind sent a shiver through his skinny frame, “We’re getting into a car soon.”

“You cannot be serious.” Jeno looked furious, a first for him. Jisung and Chenle exchanged a nervous glance, not used to seeing Jeno anything other than calm.

“I am dead serious, Lee Jeno.” Jaemin replied stonily without looking at him. “I refused to let you risk yourself three hours ago, and I’m refusing to let you risk yourself now.” The two of them glared at each other in a Mexican standoff. Chenle sidled up next to him, “I place bets on Jeno,” he said gleefully, completely forgetting his apprehension.

“There is swelling, bruising and tenderness,” Jaemin listed out methodically, oblivious to Chenle, “Visually, there is no deformity and I don’t feel numbness. The pain is centred all around the foot so I can’t pin it down to a specific location. Neglecting that, this seems to be a sprain, not a broken ankle. It can wait. And,” Jaemin continued, cutting off whatever Jeno was about to say, “If we encounter a nest we’ll have to start running again, which will be inconvenient for my ankle and for our contact.”

Chenle whistled lowly, “Man, that was badass.” Jisung agreed, though silently. He didn’t want to be on the receiving end of their ire. Jeno’s phone buzzed quietly then, effectively ending the stalemate. Jeno swiped to take the call, shaking his head at Jaemin as he turned away. “Hello?” There was a pause, then a strained, “What?” There was more murmuring and Jeno ended the call, turning back to them.

“Donghyuck said that this rest stop is colonized,” Jeno informed them tensely, eyes laser-focused on the building, “He doesn’t know how many viable ones are left in there – it was a few months back and without enough food they might be weak – but we shouldn’t take any chances.” He walked over to his bicycle, holding it up contemplatively.

“What vehicle is he bringing?” Chenle asked.

“A pickup truck,” Jeno answered, looking troubled.

“That’s going to make a lot of noise.”

“I know.”

Chenle looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging, “Well, we’ll just have to move fast then.” That ended it, they waited in the cold while the moon sank lower in the sky. As the sun began to break over the horizon, pale yellow streaking the sombre blue, the sound of a car rumbling reached them. They scrambled to their feet just as a Toyota Hilux appeared at the end of the road. “Finally,” Jisung sighed in relief. His relief lasted for a grand total of 0.5 seconds as the sound of snarling reached them. From within the main building of the rest stop, a pair of Infected robed in the colourful yellow aprons cheerfully advertising roasted chestnuts stumbled out. They zeroed in on their frozen group almost immediately and started to rush towards them.

Jisung made up his mind in a split second. “Chenle, Jeno, take Jaemin and go! I’ll catch up to you!”

“What, no!” Chenle looked scandalized, but he didn’t have the time to protest before Jeno grabbed his arm and was bodily dragging him towards the approaching truck in a half-sprint. Jisung whipped out his knife, doing a quick check of the position of the bicycles and lowering his stance. Two Infected, he got this, Jisung chanted to himself. Behind him, he can hear the commotion as they shoved Jaemin into the truck while Jeno’s voice, mingled with an unfamiliar one, rose in exasperation as they fought to get a resisting Chenle in.

Jisung paid them no mind, starting to jog towards the two Infected. His pace picked up as he got closer and in tandem, they sped up towards him. At the last moment he swerved to the side, sliding behind and seizing the smaller one by the neck while his knife came up and slit the throat. He didn’t have time to finish it before the other one was coming at him, rotting face fixed on him. Jisung shoved his companion towards him, causing them both to stumble down. He jumped on top of the impromptu body pile, stabbing at the eye of the one below. It howled loudly as Jisung’s knife missed, slicing off his nose instead as the smaller one heaved, bucking him off. Jisung rolled to the floor, kicking hard at the Infected that fell on him and throwing it off.

He scrambled up and was dragged down almost immediately by the bigger one. The two of them struggled, the smaller one starting to twitch weakly on the ground as it bled out from the slash Jisung had made earlier. The larger one growled, snapping at him just inches away. His arms were starting to tremble from the effort when it was hauled away and dispatched with a stab of Chenle’s knife. “Hurry up!” Chenle yelled, yanking at the hood of his hoodie and dragging him up, “There’s more!”

Jisung glanced at the main building and cursed, seeing movement from within. The two of them dashed across the empty parking lot towards the abandoned bicycles, the din of the Infected growing louder in volume. “You just had to do a dramatic run, didn’t you, Park Jisung?” Chenle huffed as they ran. He didn’t even bother to deign that with a reply. They snatched up Jaemin’s and Jeno’s bicycle and started to pedal for their life towards the black pick up.

Jaemin was nowhere in sight but Jeno was at the back of the truck. He caught sight of them and swung forward to bang at the driver’s window urgently. The truck slowed down, allowing for them to catch up and putting them uncomfortably closer to the Infected. “Chenle, go!” Jisung struggled to breathe, heart pounding so hard it felt like it would explode in his chest. They drew parallel to the truck and Jeno lowered the back of the truck, crawling forward and seizing Chenle’s hand. His muscles bunched as he pulled both Chenle and the bicycle in, the two of them falling in an ungainly heap. There wasn’t even a second’s pause before Jeno was there, reaching forward to him.

Jisung panted, struggling for every breath. He reached out weakly and gripped Jeno’s hand.

He slipped.

His hands were unbearably slippery from the blood and fluid from his tussle with the Infected. Chenle rushed forward, helping Jeno try to get a grip on him. “Donghyuck, slow down!” Jeno shouted, losing his grip on Jisung yet again.

“I can’t! They’re almost on us!” Donghyuck’s faint voice carried over the sound of the truck. Jisung’s vision was starting to become spotty, his muscles aching and becoming weaker. Chenle’s gaze suddenly turned fiery and he moved forward, leaning over dangerously. “Jeno hold me!” With Jeno’s hands gripping onto his left arm firmly, Chenle reached forward, “Park Jisung! Grab onto me with both your hands and jump!”

There was no time to consider how risky that was. Jisung could almost smell the disgusting breath of the Infected with how close they were. He didn’t let himself think – his hands came off the handlebars, the bicycle teetered and fell as he seized Chenle’s hand. For a brief moment he was suspended in the air and then his feet hit the ground with a painful crack and he was sprinting for all his worth, half-dragging, half-flying over the asphalt floor. Chenle grunted and Jisung was jerked forward, the metal slamming into his stomach painfully as he heaved himself up. Jeno locked the back of the truck and the car picked up speed, racing away and eventually the Infected faded from view.

The three of them panted heavily, gulping in air. Jisung put his head down on his knees, trying to catch his breath. There was the sound of someone moving and then Chenle was kneeling over him, slumped over him heavily and clutching Jisung’s head to his chest as they drove towards the rising sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character development! Who else is proud of our baby?


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geeky terms of the day:
> 
> Primers: a thing you use in PCR, which is a technique that can be used for diagnosis of viral or bacterial infections  
> Prophylatic/therapeutic: drug that you give before/after infection  
> Receptor: a little protein studded on cells. Imagine keyholes. You need a key that fits the keyhole in order to open the door and enter the cell  
> Tropism: now imagine that you're an idiot who only has one key. The security guard is chasing you and he will kill you because you're small and weak. You need to get to the right door, get inside, and hide. It's too bad that you're not like your other friends who have an entire key ring to themselves and like five more keys than you
> 
> If someone really wanted to kill you, all they have to do is stuff the keyhole with a stone.

If Jaemin was the poster boy for stressed graduate students, Donghyuck looked like a mad scientist. Bronze curls, mussed and tangled, fell over his eyes which gleamed manically despite the early hour. He also spoke at a headache-inducing speed that made Jisung feel like he was being quietly scammed of his entire life savings. At least the lab looked pretty decent even though Jisung’s only standard for measurement was whether they had the spinny things.

“The centrifuge, you mean,” Chenle corrected with a sort of smug disdain when Jisung happily pointed it out, “You should know this already, Park Jisung.” Jisung scowled.

“Is it just you here?” Jeno asked, inspecting a machine Jisung had no name for. At least one of them was being polite. Jisung was too busy alternating between touching everything in sight and making grabby motions to stop Chenle from doing the same and Jaemin hadn’t spoken a word since they arrived.

“What are you doing,” Jaemin deadpanned when Jisung poked a finger against a PCR machine. Jisung looked up sheepishly, expecting a lecture on sterility only to find Jaemin looking at him with a sort of resigned amusement. “You’re like a mouse.”

Jisung hesitated, unsure how to react. “Is your foot okay?” he said instead, clumsily changing the topic.

“Does it _look_ okay?” Chenle interrupted, inserting his head in between them now that Jisung was no longer entertaining him. Jisung nudged at his head, receiving a much harder shove back. They would have delved into a fight right then and there if Jaemin didn’t sigh very loudly and pointedly.

“It’ll be fine once I have it iced and rested,” Jaemin answered tiredly, leaning heavily on Jisung.

“Oh,” Jisung replied uneasily and rather awkwardly, not sure whether he should move or freeze in place. He was saved from the need to make any decisions by the arrival of a stranger. He glanced at Jeno helplessly, having completely missed the exchange. Donghyuck caught his eye, smiling and introducing with a flourish, “This is Hwang Renjun, my assistant.”

The newcomer, Renjun, sent Donghyuck a dead-eyed look of promised murder, a look that contrasted startlingly with his fragile appearance. “Where’s the broken ankle?” he said instead, sounding exactly like Jaemin at 6 am in the morning before he got his coffee. Jisung caught a glimpse of white bandages when his sleeve slipped as he raised his hand to rub his eyes.

Jaemin bristled, “It’s just a sprain – ”

“It’ll be whatever I say it is.” Renjun cut him off without missing a beat.

The air in the room seemed to freeze. Chenle’s eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline while Jeno looked between them warily. Jisung was half-certain that he had frozen solid by now. “Renjun is a trained nurse,” Donghyuck intervened, either happily or wilfully oblivious. “He should be able to fix you up in no time.”

“What a relief,” Jaemin finally said monotonously, betraying no emotion. Renjun turned to leave, gesturing to Jaemin. Jeno made to come over but Jaemin shook his head, limping after him with a lot more dignity than his position permitted.

“He’ll be fine,” Donghyuck soothed as Jeno followed their retreating figures with worried eyes. “Renjun is very, very good at his job. He’s just sulky because I woke him up earlier than I promised.”

“Has he been patching you up?” Jisung asked curiously.

Donghyuck shook his head, leading them to a tiny pantry and passing around biscuits and tea. “Do you guys need to wash up? I can show you to your rooms first,” he offered in a tone of such genuine hospitability that Jisung couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic. They shook their heads. “Renjun has very kindly gifted me a vial of blood every other morning for me to do my experiments,” he answered, tearing open a packet of biscuits himself, “I can’t stand blood so he punctures and patches himself up. He even helps me hunt for zombie heads. It’s very impressive.” He had an eccentric way of speaking, Jisung noted, at times he sounded as though he was narrating aloud to himself.

“What do you do with the blood?” Jeno questioned, baffled. Donghyuck had clearly been waiting for this question, sipping his tea and smiling over the teacup in such a staged way that Jisung had to hold back the urge to snort.

“Yes, you see, Renjunnie is immune to the virus.” Donghyuck revealed serenely. Despite himself, Jisung felt his jaw drop. Donghyuck noticed it immediately, his grin widening. It was a little unnerving, Donghyuck hadn’t stopped smiling since they arrived, not blinking an eyelash at their bedraggled appearance.

“That can’t be right,” Jeno refuted, putting down his biscuits before he even took a bite. “No one is immune.”

“That’s what I thought,” Donghyuck replied, the smile finally dropping away to reveal something more serious. “But he got bitten a few months ago and when he didn’t turn, I suspected that there might be something in his blood that was stopping the change.”

“You didn’t kill him?” Jisung blurted incredulously.

“I won’t kill Injunnie,” Donghyuck stated plainly, leaving it as that without adding anything else. There was a confused pause as each of them processed the statements. “So…what do you do with the blood?” Chenle parroted Jeno.

Donghyuck put down his teacup – a delicate piece with black ink strokes down the side – with a clatter and clapped his hands together, “That’s exactly why I reached out to you. Renjun’s blood prevents the zombification in mice but I have no clue how or why. I have been using his blood as a positive control and comparing every possible drug under the sky, trying to replicate this effect but the data I have gotten is patchy and basically useless, which is not surprising considering that I am basically making random guesses. Since PubMed is practically non-existent by now, the only other option I have is,” he gestured to them, “you guys. The immunology experts.”

“Oh, that’s pretty smart,” Chenle commented, making Donghyuck beam. Jisung nodded blankly, having lost track somewhere near the third sentence.

“Do you guys have wet lab experience?” Donghyuck asked, suddenly turning his attention to them. Jisung jumped guiltily, willing all 180 centimetres of himself to become invisible. Chenle nodded without hesitation, ignoring Jisung pinching his waist. “Great, let’s rest for now. We can talk this over at dinner and start tomorrow.” He clapped his hands again, lips stretching wide, “Meeting adjourned!”

/

“I can’t believe that you went ahead and did it,” Renjun said monotonously without turning away from the window when Donghyuck slipped into his room. He froze in place, feeling unreasonably guilty.

“You were the one who suggested it,” he replied, avoiding the topic. He knew exactly why Renjun was mad but in his defence, it was 2 am and he was an inch away from throwing the computer, keyboard and all, against the wall.

There was a deep, controlled intake of breath. When Renjun spoke again his voice was steely. “Yes, but I was not expecting you to run into the mountains in the middle of the night to meet three strangers without even letting me know.”

Donghyuck shuffled his feet, hesitating between joining Renjun at the window or staying where he was. “You would not have let me go,” he eventually said after a tense silence, “You would have told me to stay put until they reached the outskirts of Suwon at least, and to blindfold them, check them for tracking devices before bringing them within a hundred miles of this place.”

Renjun whirled around, face twisted with anger. “And you know precisely why I would have done that.”

Yes, Donghyuck did know. He was the one who brought up his suspicions in the first place.

It just didn’t add up.

The rapidity of the spread, the lack of warning about it, how the best labs were so slow to respond, producing data that was vague and confusing, even contradictory at times. He was puzzled when the fundings petered off and the labs shut down so quickly and had dismissed it as a byproduct of the economic crash. But it just didn’t make sense.

No government in the world would stand by and let their country crash and burn.

And the most baffling thing was that there was _zero_ information about it. Everything he figured out was from his own data, there was no collaboration, no aid to help put the best minds together to figure it out. Considering how there are _literal zombies_ walking around in the ruins of 21st century South Korea, a government conspiracy didn’t seem too far of a stretch.

“Remember Mark?” Renjun interrupted his thoughts, “Remember how he was here one day, telling us about a breakthrough, and the next day he had left for Canada? Have you heard from him since then?”

“You didn’t have to remind me of that,” Donghyuck said evenly, sore at the topic of his best friend. Renjun, to his credit, looked abashed, but he didn’t back down. In the end, Donghyuck sighed, relenting. They would go on for days if he didn’t give in, and he really didn’t have time to waste testing his stamina against Renjun. “You saw Jaemin’s foot, didn’t you? I doubt that anyone would be dedicated enough to go that far. And Jisung’s like, twelve.”

“You never know,” Renjun said gloomily, finally leaving his defensive position at the window to lean against the table. “In any case, they seem alright. For now.”

Donghyuck sighed. Leave it up to Renjun to be paranoid enough for the two of them. “How was his foot?”

“Hairline fracture. He didn’t want to believe me until I threatened to leave him with nothing but a pack of ice.”

Donghyuck snickered, throwing himself onto Renjun’s bed for a nap, ignoring the kick at his side. Man, he’s already looking forward to this.

/

Life in Suwon was exactly like what Jisung had expected. That is to say, nothing different from their lives as free labour under Jaemin’s regime. The one exception was that Jaemin was banned from putting weight on his injured foot and therefore exiled from the lab entirely, a detail that he spared no breath in complaining about.

Meanwhile, Jisung and Chenle started to join Renjun on his ‘hunts’ where Jisung spent a majority of his time trying to figure out if the jabbering the two Chinese males were going on about was directed at him. Beheading zombies took a backseat when there was someone as terrifyingly competent as Renjun around. The sun was languidly sinking into sleep during one such trip as Jisung trudged behind them, trying not to feel too left out.

“ _tā kàn qǐ lái yǒu diǎn shǎ.”_

“ _bù shì yī diǎn . kě shì tā huán mǎn yǒng gǎn , jiù wǒ jī cì liǎo._ ”

“ _shì nǐ dí qíng rén má_?”

Chenle spluttered, face going red. Jisung looked at him questioningly, smacking him on the back, only to receive a shove back. Renjun smirked but didn’t bother clarifying, swinging his customised metal bat studded with spikes all over like a medieval weapon over his shoulder.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Jisung wondered aloud when they stopped for a break, the box of frozen zombie heads resting at their feet. Renjun shrugged, popping a pill into his mouth and dry swallowing it. “More food for us if they kill each other.”

Jisung couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. It was barely a week but already Jisung could tell that he and Donghyuck operated on a twisted wavelength where they seem to feed off setting off each other’s tempers to dangerous levels. Instead he asked, “What’s that for?”

“Migraines,” Renjun replied shortly. “Donghyuck insists that I’m taking more than the recommended dosage but what does he know? He’s my biggest headache now.”

Jisung wisely chose not to put in that Donghyuck was a pharmacist and probably the best advisor on whether he was overdosing himself. Renjun seemed to be even worse than Jaemin at being told what to do.

“How many have you taken already, Injunnie?” Donghyuck frowned, putting down his bowl of rice and attempting to snatch the little pill away at the table where they were gathered for dinner. Renjun batted his hand away and the two immediately dissolved into a tug-of-war over kimchi stew.

“Feels just like home,” Jeno commented wryly, casting a significant glance at Chenle and Jisung. Jaemin didn’t rise to the bait, his gaze fixed on the little pill. “Have you been taking the pill often?” Jaemin asked, cutting into the argument.

“About as long as I have known this asshole,” Renjun grunted, successfully obtaining the pill back and swallowing it as fast as he could. “Try spending a full day with him and you’ll understand what I mean.”

“That hurts my feelings, Injunnie,” Donghyuck reproved mildly, taking a bite of tofu. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” Someone snorted. Jisung wanted to do the same. He had never met anyone like Donghyuck, who spoke sincere, brutally honest words with all the flamboyance of a stage actor. “If any of you can stop this idiot from overdosing himself on his weird Chinese herbs, I’ll gladly hand you the master bedroom to this place.”

“Chinese herbs?” Chenle snatched the little packet away from Renjun, “Woah, _ge_! You’re like an old man! I can barely read any of this.”

“That’s because you’re dumb,” Jisung added cheekily, grabbing the packet despite knowing full well that he could probably read even less than Chenle.

Donghyuck sighed loudly, “What’s the point of having a pharmacist as a friend if you’re going to kill yourself eating something that’s never been documented into PubMed? It’s like talking to my mom, geez.”

“Shut up, I like this thing.” Renjun scowled, seeming to pout a little, “I have a sensitive stomach.” The conversation flowed easily after that, although Jaemin continued to chew on his rice broodingly. Jisung shrugged it off, the other was probably in one of his weird moods because he hadn’t gotten to hold a pipette all week.

Things would probably have went on in that same endless, monotonous cycle, if Jisung hadn’t made a Very Big Mistake.

/

“Hey, Chenle,” Jisung whispered, tugging at his sleeve. They slowed to a stop outside a Chinese minimart. Renjun went ahead, unaware of them. Jisung pointed at the darkened storefront window where a packet of colourful ramen peeked out from behind a fallen shelf, practically invisible under the clutter. “Look, it’s your favourite ramen.”

Chenle squinted, his forehead clearing when he caught sight of it. He smiled, nudging Jisung. “You still remember that?”

“Of course, it was the best ramen I ever had,” he replied instantaneously, the honesty of his own words catching him by surprise. Chenle grinned at him, already starting to go. Jisung lingered, staring at the ramen. At this point he was as sick as anyone else of instant noodles and truly couldn’t care less for that one measly packet. Still, he hesitated.

He bit his lip, glancing ahead at the two. He extended a leg, pulling himself up to the entrance in one long, silent step. Jisung peered into the store cautiously, seeing nothing. He pulled his knife out and carefully edged the door open. Sliding his body into that narrow space, he reached out and snagged the packet of ramen. As he pulled, the ramen packet dislodged suddenly and the broken racks fell, one after another in a symphony of disastrous crashes.

Fuck.

Jisung stared in frozen horror and then he was sprinting, catching up within seconds to where Chenle and Renjun had spun around at the din, eyes wide with shock. “Run!” he called out as he approached, the three of them setting off at a dead sprint. It was too late; the cacophony had reverberated through the whole street and the sound of growling was starting to echo from within the shops, the snarling increasing in volume as they responded to each other.

They flew down the streets towards the university in a mess of limbs, trying to outrun the howling that was starting to surround them. Renjun swore when the first of the Infected appeared as they burst into the town square, slashing away at it with his makeshift machete. It fell instantly, courtesy of Renjun’s vicious strength. Another one materialized, followed by a horde of at least five others. Chenle caught up to him, joining him to fight off the swarm of Infected.

“Where the fuck are they coming from?” Renjun yelled over the noise as an Infected crumpled at his feet, the head rolling away. Another one replaced it, more and more of them stumbling towards them at various stages of decay.

Jisung looked around desperately as he shoved an Infected out of the way. The howling rose and fell like waves, sounding awfully like hunting cries. With a sickening lurch, he remembered what Jaemin had said before about the newer zombies. _Part of the brain that is in charge of intentional muscle motion, thinking, speech_ – “We need to leave! They’re calling!”

Like all disasters, it happened in a split second.

There was a shriek of pain and Jisung whipped his head around in time to see Chenle grimacing in pain, trying to dislodge the Infected that had sunk its teeth into his shoulder. His stomach dropped to his feet, all-consuming terror overwhelming every thought in his body. Another one seized his arm, slowing the swing of his knife. Almost as though they could sense weakness, the approaching ones fell to him greedily. Jisung wrenched his paring knife out of the one he was fighting, lurching towards Chenle only to fall to his knees as one of them leapt onto him from behind. He struggled, immobilised by the heap of Infected that piled onto him. Jisung’s knife clattered out of his hand as an Infected clamped its mouth around his wrist.

Against his will he cried out in pain. Fire raced up his arm, wracking his body as more and more of them starting gnawing at him. Chenle screamed again in anguish and fear renewed itself in his heart. Gathering all his strength, he heaved them off and staggered to his feet, trying to push them off. Renjun appeared at his side abruptly and with a few clean strikes, he freed Jisung from the tangle. Renjun grabbed his arm, dragging him away from the melee.

“Wait, Chenle – ” he gasped, turning around just in time to see an Infected rip a chunk out of Chenle, whose pale face drained of colour entirely. He didn’t seem capable of crying out anymore. Unsteady and dizzy, he stumbled along unwillingly as Renjun hauled him towards the university, muttering into his phone.

All it took was a second.

It was there, in the middle of the town square where they were in open view of everything, the university in tantalising sight, when Jisung lost Chenle. 

/

Jisung didn’t remember much from the ride back. He lay at the back of the truck, bleeding copiously as he swam in and out of consciousness while Jeno attempted to apply pressure on every single wound on his body at the same time.

“Where’s Chenle?” he heard Jaemin demand when they arrived, “Where the fuck is Chenle?!”

Yes, he thought dazedly, where is he?

He was haphazardly dumped onto a table, Donghyuck’s face appearing before him and rattling instructions off. Jisung felt his arm being lifted as Jaemin turned his wrist over, seeing the bite mark there and swearing again.

“Renjun,” Jaemin’s voice pierced the air, “Give me your medicine.”

A confused exchange transpired and then a pill was being forced into his mouth. He choked, involuntarily swallowing it.

“We need to anaesthetise him for this,” Renjun’s clear voice, the only calm one among them, rang out. For what? Jisung wanted to ask, but there was a new pain at his arm, a numbness, and then his vision started to fade away.

/

Jisung’s eyes opened slowly.

He took in the sickly yellow light, the closed blinds and the lumpy mattress below him. He ached all over, his body heavy and painful. “Finally awake,” rasped a hoarse voice. Jisung turned his head slowly, seeing Jaemin slumped at his side on a swivel chair. His hair was messy, face greasy and drawn.

Jisung didn’t answer. “Chenle…” it was a question and an answer.

There was no reply.

Jisung closed his eyes.

/

“Why did you make him eat it?” Donghyuck was leaning against the wall when Jaemin emerged into the corridor.

Jaemin took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled. “Give it to him three times a day, the same dosage as Renjun.” His voice was measured and methodical. “Check his saliva, his blood and if possible, his spinal fluid too. Jeno designed the primers for specific detection a while ago. They’re in the minus twenty freezer.”

“Jaemin,” Donghyuck started.

“Keep an eye out for the usual symptoms,” Jaemin went on without faltering, “Confusion, rigidity, bradykinesis. The usual. I’ll be in the lab.”

“Jaemin!” Donghyuck grabbed his arm, halting him.

“Renjun’s drug may be the cure that we are looking for.” Jaemin continued, dispassionate and detached. He cannot lose control now. If he lifts even a finger off the iron grip he has on himself, he will unravel, and then he will be useless. If he is useless, he will not be able to do anything. And if he can’t do anything, he will not be able to save anyone. His science, his faith, it will be all for nothing if all it amounted to was a set of figures on a computer.

“What?” Donghyuck’s fingers unclenched from him. He drew ahead of Jaemin, mouth agape, “Na Jaemin, what do you mean by that?”

Jaemin brushed past him, heading towards the lab. Donghyuck kept pace with him easily. He allowed himself a moment to curse his foot, hating how every second accumulated to less data, less information, a lesser chance to save one more person. “The virus is barely present in the muscles of infected rats, concentrating entirely in the brains and at a certain level in the salivary glands. It wasn’t difficult to draw a correlation between the viral accumulation and the disease progression.”

“I know this,” Donghyuck said slowly as they walked through the lab, forehead crinkling, “You mentioned it before.”

“Jeno managed to elucidate the viral structure and despite the size of the genome, it doesn’t seem to be able to bind to a lot of receptors. I started suspecting that the virus tropism was a result of its specificity to receptors in the brain neurons.” Jaemin snapped on a pair of gloves, pulling out some blots held down by a tube rack and brandishing them at Donghyuck with a grim triumph. “I was right. The problem was that I didn’t have time to figure out which receptor it was before we were chased out. Without that, there was no way for me to figure out which drug we could use.”

Donghyuck’s eyebrows rose, “That’s…impressive.” He cocked his head to the side, thinking aloud, “Drugs for migraines have different mechanisms of action. Renjun’s meds may be blocking the receptors the virus needs, preventing the zombification process from proceeding – ”

“ – and keeping the virus in the extracellular space, open to attack by the immune system.” Jaemin finished, collapsing into a chair, suddenly drained. He lifted a gloved hand to rub at his face, tearing it off and pressing his palm against his eyes. “Renjun’s case has shown that it is prophylactic, but we don’t know if it can be a therapeutic treatment.”

He hid his face behind his hand, voice muffled when he spoke, “Could you go away? I need to think.” Donghyuck’s hand squeezed his shoulder and he left quietly, leaving Jaemin alone.

Jaemin exhaled, releasing his grip on himself the slightest bit. He shouldn’t have done it. From the beginning it was a string of incidents, falling onto each other like a row of dominoes to where they were at now. If they lost Jisung too, it would all come down to that one cursed day when Jaemin allowed their relations to progress past a day.

At the back of his mind he knew that he didn’t have time for this. He didn’t have the luxury to allow himself a breakdown, not right now when they needed his brain the most. He stayed behind when his family called for him, delaying it day by day for one extra day, one more day to work, one more day for data until it ended in an endless loop of an automated voicemail while the phone threatened to crack under his fingers.

And now he’s going to lose them because he wanted _more, fucking, samples_.

Na Jaemin allowed himself five minutes to go through all of this in his head and another five minutes to reassemble himself into what they needed him to be. Then he got up and hobbled over to start again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> “tā kàn qǐ lái yǒu diǎn shǎ.” (He seems a little dumb)
> 
> “bù shì yī diǎn . kě shì tā huán mǎn yǒng gǎn , jiù wǒ jī cì liǎo.” (Not a little, but he's pretty brave, he has saved me a few times)
> 
> “shì nǐ dí qíng rén má ?” (Is he your lover?)
> 
> Yes, Renjun is a little shit stirrer and the most powerful one in this town. Also, a little peek into the stressed unofficial mother Na Jaemin's mind!
> 
> Last chapter after this!


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THIS
> 
> Before you go in, I would like to warn you that a sensitive topic will be discussed here. If you feel uncomfortable, put yourself first and close the tab. Please also remember that none of the topics brought up here is a representation of what I think or believe in. On the contrary, I have very strong opinions about these (more of it in the following chapter, which will be a massive note). I wrote this story with the intention to discuss these ideas as a sort of intellectual exercise in philosophy and ethics, and the only possible medium was through a fictional zombie world. 
> 
> Disregarding that, I hope you enjoy the story I binge wrote after a 3 year hiatus and more than that, I hope it got you thinking a lot about humanity, and what it means to be alive.
> 
> Geeky terms for the day:  
> Prophylactic/therapeutic: administration of the drug pre and post infection  
> Intravenous: through the veins  
> Bioavailability: the amount of drug available for uptake. Generally, oral drugs have a lower bioavailability compared to drugs that you shoot straight into the bloodstream  
> Inoculation: to introduce a pathogenic agent

For two days Jaemin watched Jisung like a hawk.

By the third day he was sure.

They were gathered around Jisung, who lay rolled up in his blankets like a kimbab while they stood over him. As usual, Jaemin was the first one to break the silence, “Jisung, you’re likely to stay human.”

Jisung didn’t reply.

Jaemin clenched his jaw, forcing himself to forge ahead. “I’ve been monitoring you and your immune system has pretty much cleared the virus. If our theory holds, you should be able to remain human.” His voice rang out in the room, harsher and more callous than he intended.

“When are we going to hold the funeral?” Jisung mumbled, his usually deep voice so subdued that Jaemin could barely make out what he was saying. Jisung’s face was pallid, motionless under the comforter that Jaemin had forcibly tucked around him that morning, concealing the numerous bandages wrapped around his body. It was unnerving to see him so still when he was usually fidgeting in place or roving around to check out everything in the room like a curious toddler.

Jaemin swallowed, “No – ”

“I found something.”

There was a beat of silence. Jaemin lifted his eyes to Jeno.

“What do you mean,” Jisung rasped, still staring up at the ceiling. “An arm? His head?” Jaemin flinched, taken aback by the venom in his voice. “We left him there with the Infected, what could you possibly have found?”

“His cellphone signal has moved.” Jeno answered steadily, unfazed. “According to the GPS, he’s currently in a building previously owned by CJ company.”

“It’s probably muggers,” Jaemin said as gently as he can, hating himself for every word.

“No,” Donghyuck finally spoke up, arms crossed. “The government had taken over that place near the beginning of this. Muggers don’t hide in places like that. And no one else other than them would bother stealing phones.” They were quiet for a moment and then Jisung lurched up, the blanket falling away as he stood.

“Where are you going?” Jaemin scowled, making to push him back.

Jisung shrugged him off, pulling himself to his full height and towering over Jaemin. “I’m going to check it out.”

“You need to lie. Down.” Renjun inserted himself between them both. He glared at Jisung, tiny frame unflinching despite the height difference between them. “It’s barely been three days, your stitches are going to rip open.”

“The drug works, doesn’t it?” Jisung didn’t seem to hear a single word, “It takes about a week for the zombification to complete. By this time he should be experiencing high fever, maybe even the beginning of involuntary muscle spasms considering the number of times that he was bitten. It’s not too late yet if I can get the drug to him now.”

Jaemin and Jeno exchanged an incredulous look. Huh, of all times to use his head. Who knew that this kid had been paying attention all this while?

“And you plan to storm a government-owned building to retrieve the dead body of your friend and attempt to revive him?” Renjun scoffed, holding back no punches. "You don't even know if he's there."

Jisung recoiled as though he had been struck. “Chenle may not be dead yet.”

“He may as well be.”

“Let’s not talk about it now,” Jeno intervened gently, despite being the one to bring up the topic in the first place. “You need to rest, Jisungie.” He pushed Jisung back into bed, patting his hair a little like how one would to a dog. Jisung went along with it, surprisingly docile. Jaemin narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

/

Contrary to popular belief, Jisung was not stupid.

Maybe he is. Maybe he’s being the biggest fool in the world for believing, but Jisung couldn’t bear to leave it as it is. He can't bring himself to believe that Chenle was left in the square while he lived. It's like his mother and brother all over again. Jisung wouldn't be able to go on not knowing for sure, and he didn't care if he lost his life over this because it was never his decision to choose his own over Chenle.

He let himself be coddled by Jeno while Jaemin hovered over his shoulder uncertainly, nodded when Renjun listed out the dos and don’ts in a tone akin to a military commander and made the appropriate responses to Donghyuck’s attempts to comfort him.

He lay awake the whole night, forcing himself to lay still, fighting the urge to rush out the door. Instead, he distracted himself by going over his plan, knowing that it was the only way to keep his mind from wandering. Park Jisung waited patiently until the sun rose, until Renjun and Jaemin came to do their daily checks, until the time came for Renjun to leave the building to do his rounds and the other three would be busy with experiments.

It was then that he made his move.

He swung himself out of the bed, stumbling a little from the vertigo. As quietly as he could, he slipped out of the room and slinked through the corridors. It was a stroke of luck that he passed Renjun heading to his room a few days before, or he would never have had the time to figure out where his room was.

Jisung peeked into the office cautiously, silently entering into the space and looking around. There was a mattress shoved in the small space left from where a table had been installed into the ground, blankets folded neatly on it. Aside from a dainty teacup, the room was entirely bare. It looked more like a hospital room than a bedroom. Jisung got to work, pulling open the cabinets and rifling through it, hunting for the little white packet.

There was a quiet knock on the door.

Jisung froze. In a second, he dove behind the table, trying to fold his inconveniently long limbs as tightly as he could. The door opened and Jisung held his breath. There was a prolonged pause, then a dry, “Jisung, I can see you.”

Jisung squeezed his eyes shut, cursing soundlessly. He reluctantly unfolded himself and stood up, turning around to face Jeno, who was smiling at him knowingly. Jeno held up a little white packet, shaking it mockingly at him. “You’re really easy to read, Jisung,”

“Then you know what I’m planning to do,” Jisung replied coolly, estimating the distance between him, Jeno and the door. He may have an inch or two on Jeno but the older had several pounds of muscles more. He wasn’t going to take the chance.

“Great, that saves me the time to have to explain everything.” Jeno said briskly, tucking the packet into his jacket, “I have the car keys with me, let’s go.”

Jisung blinked in surprise. “You aren’t going to stop me?”

Jeno turned back questioningly, “Why should I? I want to save the kid as much as you do. Besides,” he went on with a wry smile, “Jaemin would most certainly put himself through hell about this for the rest of his life. Just like how you’re trying to save your friend, I’m not ready to let Jaemin kill himself just yet.”

Jisung looked at him warily as he joined Jeno at his side, the two of them exiting the room to head towards the parking lot. “You care for Jaemin a lot.” It wasn’t really a question.

“I do,” Jeno answered simply.

They went through the snake-like corridors wordlessly. As they turned around the corner, Jisung startled at the appearance of Donghyuck. Donghyuck’s eyes flicked between the two of them suspiciously. “I’m pretty sure Injunnie told you to stay in bed.”

“I was going for a walk – ”

“He needed help going to the washroom – ”

Jisung bit his lip, not daring to look at Jeno.

Donghyuck laughed loudly in their faces. “Yeah, this is what you get when you put two of the worst liars together.”

“I was going to bring him to the washroom and then a walk around the campus,” Jeno, bless his soul, was trying to fix the wreck of a conversation.

Donghyuck snorted, “Don’t even bother, alright?”

“Just pretend you didn’t see anything,” Jisung said tiredly, making to move past him.

Donghyuck blocked his way, the amusement fading from his eyes. “You can’t bring it to them.”

Jisung frowned, “Why not?”

“I don’t trust them,” Donghyuck said in a rush, “Jeno – you know what I mean, I have a bad feeling about this. You don't even know if he's there! Or whether he's alive. You can go and ask them for Chenle if you want, but don’t bring along the drug.” He, unbelievably, had the nerve to put his hand on Jisung’s arm, stopping his motion. There was a pregnant pause, and then the three of them fell to a tangle of limbs as Donghyuck tried to bodily stop the two of them from rushing down the corridor. “Jaemin!” he yelled, his voice reverberating through the building. “Renjun – ” Jisung slapped his hand over his mouth, muffling him.

Jeno grunted, heaving him up. They hurried along, Jeno fighting to hold a wriggling Donghyuck while Jisung kept his hand firmly clamped over his mouth. “I can’t believe this,” he seethed, when they had dumped him into the car and started driving away. “I took you guys in, fed you, clothed you, and this is how you repay me.”

Jeno, to his credit, looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, but we really can’t let you stop us.”

Donghyuck gave in rather quickly, probably seeing the futility of it. They drove towards the building in silence. Jisung jiggled his leg incessantly, looking out the window every now and then. “Jaemin’s right,” Donghyuck’s voice came from beside him, “You’re like a mouse.”

Jisung glanced at him and scowled, stilling his leg. “There aren’t a lot of Infected here,” Jeno remarked from the wheel. “We would never be able to drive around like this in Seoul.”

“Of course not,” Donghyuck answered, making himself comfortable in the seat. “Seoul was overpopulated even before this started. And the government did a lot of…clean up in Suwon.”

That was weird. Jisung couldn’t recall anything of that sort ever happening in Seoul. From the look of his face, Jeno did too. They pulled up to a grey building after driving for about forty five minutes, a sizeable distance considering the size of Suwon. A camera at the top of the wire mesh fence turned towards them. Jeno rolled the window down, leaning out. “State your purpose,” a robotic voice crackled over an unseen speaker.

“We are looking for a Chinese male, nineteen years old, with injuries inflicted by the Infected,” Jeno recited.

“There isn’t anyone of that description here.”

Jeno extended his phone out, facing it towards the camera. “His cellphone signal was detected here.”

There was a pause, “He is slated to be euthanised soon. Please turn back.”

Jisung’s heart clenched, he barely heard Donghyuck muttering, “See, I told you these guys are shady. Why take a dying person and then lie about it?”

“We have a potential cure,” Jeno called out. He pointed a finger at Jisung, who poked his head out of the window, “We tested it on this guy and believe that it could save our friend too.”

“Please give us a moment.” They waited for a few minutes, not saying anything. Eventually the door clicked, swinging open. They exchanged a glance apprehensively. Jeno started the car again and drove in. At the entrance of the building, several stony-faced men emerged, patting them down and guiding them down a series of hallways.

“Do you have a lab here?” Jeno asked, receiving no response.

“Is he alright?” Jisung tried, meeting the same silence. A turn, another turn, several locked doors. The further they went the tenser he got, the discomfort brewing in his gut developing to a solid weight. “Something doesn’t feel right,” Donghyuck breathed into his ear.

He didn’t get a chance to respond before they halted abruptly. Jisung collided into Jeno and as he stumbled back, he caught a glimpse of one of the men who had been walking ahead.

It was the guy who mugged him.

“What the hell? ” he started before his arms were suddenly wrenched behind his back.

“This is a safety precaution,” one of the men said.

“Safety precaution my ass!” Donghyuck screamed, “I _told_ you – I fucking told you guys!” The rest of his cursing was ceased when one of the men silenced him with a beefy hand for the second time that day. Distantly, Jisung felt a pang of sympathy. As they were manhandled down the hallways, Jisung's mugger smirked a little at him, "You sure were hard to catch." Jisung's forehead crinkled in confusion.

The last door swung open to reveal a huge space that looked like it used to be the main rooms of a factory. White benches stacked with the same kind of machines that Jisung saw in their labs sat in rows while people outfitted in white lab coats flitted around busily. They didn’t get a chance to sightsee any further before they were shoved forward.

“What’s going on?” a throaty voice rang out. A young man, bespectacled with messy black curls and a tired face, stepped in front of their group. Despite his obvious youth, his cheekbones stuck out like a skeleton’s and he had a strangely commanding air to him. “I thought I said before that I don’t want unauthorised people traipsing around the lab.”

The leader of their little group stepped forward, “There was no other route – ”

“That’s your problem to deal with,” the young man said coldly, “If the results fuck up because of the contamination from all of you, you can go to your boss and explain to him exactly why.” He flicked his gaze over the rest of them dismissively. It was only because Jisung was watching him that he noticed the barely imperceptible widening of his eyes as his gaze landed on someone behind Jisung.

There was the slightest hesitation and then he stepped aside, “Wait,” he called out sharply as they passed. “These subjects, are they fresh?”

“We haven’t had a chance to inspect them, but they seem to be uninfected. They claim to have the cure and had tested it on one of them.” The leader jerked his chin towards them. The young man looked them over again consideringly. Whatever it was that had come over him so briefly had vanished. He examined them with a clinical eye, tapping his chin in thought.

“I want them,” he declared, tucking his hands into the pocket of his lab coat. Their captors glanced at each other uncertainly until the young man gave them a pointed look. “I’ll straighten stuff out with Dr Jung. Put them in Unit A for now.”

The leader opened his mouth, probably to protest but the man flapped his arm at them, “Leave them cuffed, it’s not like they can run anywhere.”

/

The door slammed shut, imprisoning them into the cell. It was less of a cell and felt more of a cage. No basin, no bed; just a five by five space with a single door fitted with a small window to look through. “Well, isn’t this a right mess.” Jeno sighed. Their captors had stripped them of their coats and phones before pushing them in, taking everything including the little packet that Jeno had kept in his pocket. Donghyuck was uncharacteristically silent. He had slumped down onto the floor as soon as they arrived.

Jisung joined him wordlessly, drained of hope. Opposite them and down the hallway were similar cells, each housing various numbers of people. There didn’t seem to be a pattern to the types of people based on the little that Jisung had seen; they ranged from young to middle-aged, male and female.

There was a clanging sound, and the little window in the door slid open to reveal the young man they had seen earlier. Jisung and Jeno tensed, but Donghyuck didn’t even flinch.

“Mark,” Donghyuck said, still sitting on the floor. They whipped their heads to look at him in shock but he wasn’t looking at them, still staring at the floor. “This doesn’t look like Canada.”

“Why are you here?” the young man, Mark, hissed, “What the hell was that about a cure?”

“Why are _you_ here?” Donghyuck got to his feet, dusting himself off. He shoved his hands into his pockets, an echo to the same motion that Mark had made, slowly strolling over to the window. “How much did they bribe you with? Publications in Nature? No, that stuff is worthless now. A nice, fancy seat in the new world?”

A look of hurt cross his face. “Shut up, Hyuck.” He snapped.

“No, I don’t think I will,” Donghyuck’s voice was so nonchalant that he could have been talking about dinner. “You disappeared without a word and the next thing I know you’re here playing Frankenstein.”

“I don’t think Frankenstein is the right name – ” Jisung started before being nudged sharply by Jeno.

Mark exhaled sharply, closing his eyes as though praying for patience. Jisung could relate, Donghyuck was a bit of a handful sometimes. “Okay, you know what? Fight with me later. Donghyuck, you guys need to get out of here. Take the drug with you and don’t give it to anyone.”

Donghyuck made a twirling motion, “Old news, Mork Lee. Can you get to the point?” Jeno placed a hand on his arm, restraining him.

“They’re going to keep this for themselves, Hyuck!”

Jeno and Donghyuck stared at him in puzzlement. Mark went on, almost slurring his words with how fast he was speaking, “Every scientist who had worked on this has either been killed or had joined them.”

“And of course you joined them,” Donghyuck sneered.

“I had to once I figured out what they were doing!” Mark exploded, “Hyuck, just, stop _fighting_ me for one second! Listen! They started this pandemic, they created this virus to control the increasing population but it turned out to be more successful than they planned. That’s why it isn’t stopping, they plan to wait it out and once it hits their target they’ll come in and do a massive clean up. But before that they don’t want anyone stepping in to stop it rolling.”

Jeno’s face had gone ghostly white. “They…created this?”

“I don’t think they meant to have it go this far. It was supposed to wipe out the ‘unwanted’ ones, the elderly, the chronic sick – those who were an economic burden to them – but it ended up spiralling out of control.” Mark spat contemptuously. “They didn’t expect their own creation to be able to develop a mind of their own. But because it did, they had to recreate their original antidote, one that they intend to give only to the selected people.”

Jisung elbowed his way to the front. As horrifying as it was, he had one more pressing concern, “How are you doing your experiments?”

Donghyuck and Jeno looked at him quizzically, not following his train of thought. Mark gave him a bleak smile, “Human subjects.”

“Oh my god,” Donghyuck breathed out in horror, his hand flying to his mouth.

Mark returned his gaze to Jisung, “Your friend is going to be one of them.”

/

Jisung’s head flew forward as his guard slapped him upside the head. “Hey, stop it,” Mark warned sharply, “I need to analyse his brain.” He shuffled along, stalling as much as he could while scoping out his surroundings. There wasn’t much, unfortunately. At the end of Unit A was a door that opened to a corridor that led off to three directions. Mark went straight ahead and scanned his card, admitting them into Unit B. The one they used for the infected subjects.

The first thing Jisung noticed was the noise. Muffled growling and snapping leaked out from the closed doors of the cells and Jisung was forcibly reminded of the mice that he had seen back in the lab at Yonsei. It felt like a million years ago. They stopped at a cell labelled B-17, Mark held onto his shackles while the guard went in. Jisung peeked in, catching a glimpse of Chenle’s blonde hair as the guard unlocked him from where he was chained to the wall. 

The other boy seemed almost normal. His eyes were half-closed, face sweaty and pale, looking not much different from how he usually did when he was sick. The rest of his body was a wreck. Deep bite marks latticed the exposed skin of his limbs, his torn shirt hanging raggedly from his shoulders. With a lurch, Jisung realised that the slight depressions were from missing chunks of flesh. Bile rose up in his throat at the sight. Whoever attempted to patch him up did a shoddy work, the shallower wounds were yellow with disinfectant and open gashes were hastily bandaged over without the practiced neatness of Renjun’s hands.

Jisung clenched his jaw in anger. Those bastards were just waiting for him to turn. "Why even bother stitching him up when you're just waiting for him to die?" he snarled, unable to hold back any longer.

Mark squeezed his wrist, cautioning him. "You can't turn into a zombie if you die from septic shock before then," Mark answered, ignoring the curious glance from the guard, "He needs to be kept alive, or at least his brain does, until the virus is done taking over. And it shouldn't take long," Mark said meaningfully, "considering how badly he was bitten."

Mark hustled him forward, Jisung stumbling from the renewed fear and panic from Mark's words. They entered a surgical room where both he and Chenle were strapped to operating tables. The older boy was unconscious, but his body kept spasming sporadically, arching off the bed and straining against the straps at one point while Mark dismissed the guard and turned to them urgently. 

“I’m going to administer the drug now,” Mark was muttering under his breath, “You know what to do, I’ll release these straps and we're going to wheel Chenle out. If anyone asks, we're using a different operating theatre." Mark glanced across the room, "I'm going to put some lab coats underneath Chenle. Put them on and and get the hell out.”

“I didn’t know that you had planned in vivo experiments today, Dr Lee.”

Mark stiffened. Jisung stretched his neck, seeing an older man at the entrance to the room. He was taller than Mark and bulkier, features smooth and elegant. He would have been really handsome if it weren’t for the cold malice that seem to permeate his face like a snake regarding its prey. “Dr Jung,” Mark’s voice was even.

“I told you to call me Jaehyun, or even hyung if you wish,” he chided mildly, strolling over to them, “You’re one of the best here, Mark. There’s no need to be formal when we’re practically on the same level.”

Was that a threat? A mockery? Jisung felt like he was caught in the middle of a chess game. “Change of plans,” Mark said shortly, “I wanna test out something.”

Jaehyun hummed, “Yes, with _my_ test subjects.”

“It’s an unusually lucky combination,” Mark deflected, “Two males of the same age group, infected by the same group at the same time. One treated therapeutically within hours and one,” Mark glanced at Chenle, “at stage two.”

They both tensed when Jaehyun walked over and picked up the white packet. “Why are they both here, then?” he asked, sounding almost bored. “There’s no need to bring both of them to the operating theatre unless you plan on cutting them up.”

Jisung could practically feel the tension radiating off Mark, “I’m going to administer the drug to the infected one. We need to validate the timeframe for treatment – ”

“You don’t need to tell me something that obvious, Mark,” Jaehyun cut him off, “What I’m asking is, why is that one there?”

Even before Mark started speaking, Jisung got the distinct feeling that if their plan was a car, this was the point where they veer so wildly off the mark that they’re going to plunge into the ocean with Jisung still inside. “I want to try out a prophylactic treatment in him.”

Prophylactic? What was that again? Shit, didn’t that mean pre-infection?

Jaehyun raised an eyebrow at that, but at least the suspicion had faded off his face. He stared at Mark wordlessly for a moment before lifting the packet, “But we only have two pills.” Through the translucent packet, Jisung could see two sad little pills inside.

Jisung cast a quick glance upwards at Mark. He took one look at the dumbfounded expression and knew immediately that the plan was screwed. “I think the prophylactic treatment is a good idea,” Jaehyun said, extracting one of the pills and handing it to Mark. He shook the packet with a smirk, “But I’ll want to keep this. We can leave the therapeutic treatment for when we figure out the formula of this.” Jaehyun went round the table, coming over to Jisung’s other side. “Hmm, since you already brought two subjects here we might as well work with them.”

“What?” Mark croaked weakly.

Jaehyun cast him an impatient glance, “Use that infected one to infect this one. Oh, but we’ll have to administer the drug first, don’t we?”

“Yes,” Mark seemed to pull himself back together, “But we should wait an hour before infecting him. We don’t know anything about this drug but most oral drugs reach their optimal concentration after about an hour.” Honestly Mark made an incredible scientist. Jisung couldn't tell if he was just pulling this out of his ass but his level of academic bullshit was really off the charts.

Jaehyun was frowning, “Why don’t you just administer it to him intravenously? That would be a lot faster.”

“The bioavailability will be different,” Mark argued, “We don’t know _anything_ about this drug, I don’t want to waste subjects by overdosing them right off the bat.”

Jaehyun shrugged, giving in quickly. “Have it your way.” Without warning, he forced open Jisung’s mouth and snatched the pill from Mark’s hand, shoving it down his throat. Jisung choked, but Jaehyun kept his mouth shut with one large hand until he swallowed. “Call me back in an hour, I’ll want to see this.” He tucked the packet into his pocket and left the room, leaving behind a horrified silence.

Jisung wanted to weep.

/

“Please tell me you have more from where that came from,” Mark whispered. Jisung nodded his head, “Renjun might have more of it, but he’s back at our base.”

“Renjun?” Mark’s voice reanimated a little, “He’s there too? Okay no, focus Mark, you got this. Umm….” Mark wrung his hands, chewing his lips as he thought, suddenly seeming ten years younger. Jisung inwardly marvelled at the duality of this man.

“We can stick to the original plan,” Jisung pointed out, “Wait for him to come back and get him to release one of my hands,” he wriggled his hand from where it was strapped down at his sides, “for Chenle to bite while you release the other. We can knock him out and keep him here while we go on as planned.”

“What about the drug?” Mark demanded, “We can’t leave it with them.”

Jisung gave him a frustrated look, “Look, thanks for trying to save the world and all, but this is kind of your problem to fix.”

“I _told_ you earlier that I had no choice!” Mark started to raise his voice, just barely remembering to keep it down before anyone outside could hear them. “I had to stay to figure out what they were doing every step of the way and divert them whenever I can.”

“Yeah, I heard you. I also heard exactly what Jaehyun said about you being their best,” Jisung looked away from Mark, glaring at the ceiling, “Don’t try to say that you were giving them false data all this while. Maybe you can fool a regular person, but you can’t bullshit your way past fellow scientists.”

Mark was quiet for a moment and when he spoke it was in a low, controlled voice, “I made a necessary sacrifice.”

Jisung suddenly felt very tired. There it is again, that same damn argument. “Listen, no offence but honestly? Screw you guys. Who are you to decide someone else’s fate? You can’t claim moral high ground when you used your position up on that intelligence meter to hand out death sentences like we do to animals.”

“It’s for the greater good,” Mark sounded like he was gritting his teeth, “That’s how it works. Someone has to get blood on their hands.”

Jisung didn’t bother arguing further. “Fine. Then I’ll make my own sacrifice. You can figure out how to stop them while I stick to the plan. I’m not going to risk Chenle and Jeno and Donghyuck to clean up _your_ mess.” He turned his head to lift a sardonic eyebrow, “You guys were the ones to decide that the lives of a select few are worth more than the others. I’m just doing the same for my own.”

The next hour passed in agonising silence. Jisung was almost glad when Jaehyun stepped in. He nodded at Mark in greeting, thankfully cutting straight to the chase, “How are we going to do this? Intravenous?”

“No, I want to use the standard route for inoculation,” Just like that, Mark slipped back into his evil scientist persona. It was impressive and mildly terrifying. Jisung was starting to think that it was a necessary qualification to be Renjun’s friend.

Jaehyun made a noise of approval, “It really is a stroke of luck that we managed to get you. I’ve been telling the director that we should build more spaces so that we can afford to take in more manpower rather than sending the Infected after them.”

“What did you say?” He wasn’t the only one startled by the volume of his own voice. Jaehyun’s smooth forehead wrinkled in confusion, as though mystified as to why a test subject was speaking to him.

“You should gag your test subjects, Mark,” Jaehyun reproached, “It’s going to affect your work if you don’t keep yourself professional.”

“Are you deaf?” Jisung said loudly, not really knowing where his courage is coming from. It might be the adrenaline, or maybe the past week is making him really sick of being tossed around like a doll. “I asked you a question, what do you mean by that?”

Jaehyun laughed in delight, “Oh, this one is fun. He’s not as timid as he looks.”

Jisung wasn’t listening, his mind was racing, reaching into his memories and clumsily assembling them. The attack at Yonsei, the sudden appearance in the deserted town square so close to their base at the university, what Mark said about the scientists who were working on them. “You sent the Infected after us?” he asked, appalled, looking at Mark.

Thankfully, Jaehyun didn’t catch his incriminating slip-up. It would be hell if they realised that they had several scientists practically waiting for them in their cells. “No one else goes around carrying zombie heads in boxes of dry ice,” Jaehyun said, looking him up and down with a considering eye, "Minwoo tried to track down the rest of your crew using your phone - thank you for the free samples, by the way, it never hurts to have more - but you managed to escape our army even with the head wound. It was a brilliant jailbreak you did, I would never have thought of it." He cocked his head in thought and turned to Mark, "Do we have space for a new staff?"

"What?" Mark spluttered.

Jaehyun gestured at him, "A scientist with the creativity of our hunters, don't you think that he would be a beneficial addition to our team?"

Somwhere in the distance, he can practically hear Jaemin laugh. Despite himself, Jisung wanted to break out into hysterical laughter too. It was very lucky for them all that Jaehyun misunderstood him completely, but him? A scientist? If only he knew. Jisung would set the whole building on fire and it wouldn't even have to be intentional.

"I...I'll have to check," Mark mumbled, dodging the question.

Jaehyun sighed, "A pity. Poor Minwoo really jumped through hoops saving his friend from our army and dragging him back just to lure this one to come. I doubted him when he went against the kill order to save that one but he's right after all. They make a wonderfully perfect sample set; same gender, same age group and even the same timing of infection. I should talk to the director about giving Minwoo a pay raise, maybe we can have him as a research assistant." He spoke about them as though they were mice. While they almost lost their lives fighting zombies set on them like wild dogs, someone else was standing by, watching and wondering if their lives were worth keeping for experiments. "Still," Jaehyun was still talking, "It would be a waste if he just ends up as a test subject. Hey," Jaehyun directed the question at him, "Do you have any other colleagues?"

Jisung glared at him hatefully.

"Can't say that I didn't expect that," Jaehyun clicked his tongue, "Mark, could you get Minwoo to track down the phone numbers in their phones? Something might turn up."

“You guys are foul,” he spat, anger properly overwhelming whatever apprehension he was still harbouring. “You lot playing God is the reason the world is like this now.”

Jaehyun stilled. “How do you know about that?”

Shit. Jisung cursed himself. This is what he gets for being too mouthy. Mark swooped in smoothly, “I got a little bored waiting so I started talking a bit.” Mark shrugged, pulling off an Oscar-winning act, “It’s not like he can tell anyone.”

“This is the third time you’ve broken protocol today, Mark,” Jaehyun said coldly. “I don’t want to report you, but you should know best what comes out of getting too personal.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Oh god, Jisung _really_ needs to stop talking. It must be a side effect from living with Jaemin for too long, “Worried that you’ll start remembering that you’re killing humans?”

Jaehyun looked annoyed, but at least his attention had left Mark. He exhaled loudly in exasperation, pinning Jisung with a glare, “And how are you different from us?”

Jisung barked an ugly laugh, disbelieving, “You need me to spell it out for you?”

“You kill the Infected,” Jaehyun pointed out, “Biologically, they’re human. That makes you a murderer.”

Jisung’s stomach dropped, an unpleasant feeling twisting his gut. “They’re not human anymore.”

“That’s what people say to mass murderers and psychopaths too,” Jaehyun said, looking bored, “‘They’re not human, so they don’t deserve to live’.”

“I dare you to get out of your safe little nest in this damn building and go outside,” Jisung said through gritted teeth, “Try running for your life and having people precious to you be killed, and try to stand there and watch it all happen without raising a hand.”

Jaehyun made an ‘aha’ sound, grinning at Jisung and pointing at him jauntily, “There you go. You kill the immediate threat, but _we_ get rid of the indirect threat. Have you ever heard of Universe 25? No?” Jaehyun rubbed his hands together as though preparing for a lecture, “To cut the long story short, it was an experiment on mice. They created a mouse utopia; sufficient food, no natural disasters. The mice started breeding very happily and their population shot up. The problem was, there was only so much space.”

Jaehyun started circling around the room, leisurely inspecting surgical instruments and turning them over in his hands, “The overpopulation drove the mice to extinction. And that’s where we’re headed.”

“So your solution is to get rid of anyone ‘useless’”, Jisung said scornfully, “What did old people ever do to you? Ask for a seat on the bus?”

“You’re not seeing the big picture,” Jaehyun insisted, “What we’re doing is for the good of humanity.”

“You’re a lunatic.”

“I’m a realist.” Jaehyun corrected. Suddenly tiring of the conversation, Jaehyun stepped forward, muttering to himself, “The number of times I have had to say this.” He unstrapped Jisung’s arm and started pulling it towards Chenle.

Jisung resisted, earning a frown from Jaehyun. “Should we anaesthetise him? No,” he rejected his own idea immediately before Mark could come up with an excuse, “We don’t want any confounding factors. Come on, now.” Jaehyun grabbed his arm with both hands, pulling hard. Jisung’s arm trembled and shook as his arm was slowly dragged to Chenle’s face, buying as much time as he could. Then he felt the strap on his other arm loosen.

In one motion, he swung himself up to a sitting position and grabbed at Jaehyun. The older man stumbled back, unbalanced from the sudden disappearance of resistance. Before he could make a sound, Mark was there, one arm keeping him in a chokehold while the other hand clamped a cloth soaked with anaesthesia against his face. Jisung gathered every ounce of flexibility in his body and bent as far forwards as he could with his legs still strapped to the bed, gripping onto Jaehyun’s arms and holding him in place as his struggling grew feebler and finally stopped.

“Okay,” Mark panted, laying Jaehyun down onto the floor and stealing his lanyard, from which a card similar to Mark’s hung. “That wasn’t too bad.” He quickly untied Jisung and strapped Jaehyun to the bed, patting him down for the pill. “Shit,” he muttered, when all the pockets came up empty. “I think he passed it to the chemistry department.” Jisung bit his lip, unstrapping a twitching Chenle and heaving him onto his back.

“What are you going to do?” he asked, huffing under Chenle’s weight and the effort of trying to steady him. Mark’s face was entirely blank, gaze unseeing as he stood motionlessly, staring at Jaehyun. “Mark?”

Mark seemed to snap out of it, “I’ll go with you.” They exited the room, locking it behind them and heading down the deserted corridors.

“Where is everyone?” he murmured, hefting Chenle higher up his back. He prayed that Chenle would hold out for a few more hours. The last thing he needs is for Chenle to reanimate into a zombie on his back and start chewing on him.

Mark scanned them through the door to Unit B, answering tersely, “Not many people work in this unit, I’m one of the few cleared to do in vivo work. Also,” he added with a grin, “It’s lunch time.” Mark held the door open for Jisung, hanging Jaehyun’s lanyard around Jisung’s neck.

“Did you mean any of it?” Jisung asked abruptly as they walked through Unit B.

Mark didn’t have to ask him to clarify. “Sacrifices have to be made,” he said firmly, “I always believe that. But it's never going to be black and white. Some things are off-limits.” Mark slowed down, gazing into one cell where a woman was snarling at him through the tiny window, face contorted in a grimace. “If the amount of blood I'm spilling outweighs what I save, then it stops being a case about the greater good. I made a choice to try and save humanity, but things won’t always turn out exactly how we want them to be.”

It was there and then that Jisung made up his mind. He stared at Mark out of the corner of his eyes as he pushed open the door, letting him out into the hall where Unit A was situated, a mere ten meters away, pushing himself to walk through every possible outcome if he takes this step. Is it worth it? Hell, if Jisung knew. Who is he, anyway, to assign a value to each life? Jisung pushed all the doubts away, focusing on a single unchanging fact.

“I’m going to come with you,” he announced as Mark swiped them into Unit A.

“Come with me where?” Mark answered distractedly, entirely missing the impact Jisung was intending to make.

Jisung scowled, “To get the drug!”

Mark turned to him in surprise, but before he could get a word out Jisung was speaking, “I’m not doing this for you or the world, just so you know that,” Lies. Lies, lies, lies. “But Chenle needs the drug and he will most certainly die – ” by Renjun’s hand, no doubt, that vicious guy, “ – if that’s the last one. We can buy a bit of time to find more of it if I get it to him _now_. It’s a win-win situation for you and me.”

And that really is the crux of the whole matter, isn’t it? Jisung has no business interfering with the fate of the world, of the countless people who are dying in this building or outside, because choosing one life over another is still one life lost. But Chenle is part of his world, and that will be the only world whose fate he gets to choose.

“How are you going to do that?” Mark hissed as they stopped outside their cell. Jisung looked at him as though the answer was obvious, “You’re going to show me the way.”

/

“Jisung, what the hell?” Jeno said frantically, trying to grab onto his sleeve with one hand while his other arm was occupied with Chenle as though he was restraining puppies, rather than two full-grown males. Donghyuck hurried to relieve him of Chenle, laying him gently against the wall next to the door, out of sight from any straying eyes.

Jisung wrenched his sleeve away, grabbing onto Jeno’s wrist and staring straight into his eyes. “I’m going with Mark to take the drug, I promise I’ll be back in an hour. If I don’t…well assume the worst. I’ve unlocked your handcuffs, you guys can do the rest of the thinking. Trust me on this!” he called out as Mark forcefully shut the door again on their protests.

The two of them hurried through a series of corridors. Mark grabbed a white lab coat from a row of hooks, thrusting it at Jisung. “Wear this, it should help.” Jisung snapped on a surgical mask, snagging a pair of protective eyewear from a bench and sliding it on. Mark gave him an approving nod. They took an elevator down, heading to the chemistry department.

“Oh, Mark,” a man around Jaehyun’s age approached them as soon as they entered, “Have you seen Jaehyun?”

Mark shook his head, the picture of innocence. “I saw him about an hour ago in the main lab. What’s up?”

The man frowned, “I was supposed to meet him for lunch but he didn’t turn up. I thought that he might have gotten caught up in experiments and forgot to tell me.”

Mark hummed, “Stuff like this happens. You know how it is, Dr Kim. Anyway, have you gotten a look at the drug they brought in?”

“Yeah, it’s over there,” Dr Kim gestured vaguely towards a bench, still looking displeased, “Jaehyun literally dropped it off not long ago, I don’t know how he expects us to produce data so quickly.”

“Thanks!” Mark called over his shoulder, “I’ll pass the message to Jaehyun.” Dr Kim grunted, already hanging up his coat and leaving. Jisung snatched the little pill off the table, slipping it into his pocket. No one noticed anything as they left the room, retracing their path back to where they came from. It almost felt too easy.

An alarm started blaring when they were just minutes from Unit A. Mark jerked, staring at him with round eyes, “Jaehyun.” They pelted down the corridor as fast as they could, slowing down whenever they passed a staff, trying to look hurried and not panicked.

“Alright,” Mark breathed, as they finally entered the hall where Unit A was situated, “I need you to go over to Unit A and hold the door open a little. The sensor is a bit weak so if you hold it close enough it won’t start beeping.”

“What are you going to do?” Jisung asked slowly.

Mark gave him a crooked smirk, not answering. He crossed over to Unit B and let the door fall shut, jamming an empty pill bottle to stop it from completely closing. He started jogging backwards, towards the end of Unit B and Jisung did as he was instructed. Through the little crack, Jisung strained to see what was happening.

The growling of the Infected suddenly exploded in volume. Mark burst out of the doors of Unit B, just barely escaping an Infected. Jisung wrenched the door open, letting him slide in and they threw their weight against the door, slamming it shut. There was a thud as the Infected crashed into the heavy metal door but it held. The growls faded as they raced down the corridors behind the door in every direction. “Go, go,” Mark urged. He started swiping at all the doors, opening all of them. Jisung hurried to do the same, yanking the door to their cell open where Jeno and Donghyuck stood ready, Chenle hoisted between them.

“What the hell is going on, Canada?” Donghyuck directed the question to Mark who swiped open a door, freeing a middle-aged man inside. Mark turned around, fixing Donghyuck with a steely gaze. He grabbed Donghyuck’s hand, wrapping his fingers around a set of keys. “You know how my car looks like. It’s out in the parking lot where you guys came through.”

Donghyuck let go of Chenle, drawing in front of Mark and grabbing his collar. “What are you doing?” he growled, “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

Mark pushed his hands away, “It’s too late. I’m in trouble anyway,” he tossed a meaningful glance at Jisung, “Jaehyun must have been discovered by now.” Jisung understood that look. With Jaehyun found, there was no way Mark could avoid the fallout. He was trying to create chaos and buy time for them all to escape by letting loose the Infected on their creators.

"We don't have time to find your phones - " shit, Jisung had completely forgotten about them, " - but I might still be able to get to them along the way. Not all of them know about me yet."

“How are we going to get to the parking lot without getting caught?” Jeno demanded, probably still a little suspicious of Mark.

Mark smiled grimly, “You’re going to be the least of their concern.”

The lab through which they came was in chaos, the scientists were running around in confusion and in the distance, the snarls of the Infected could be heard, mingled with gunshots. They didn’t stay to watch, sprinting after Mark who led them through the labyrinth until they finally rushed through the last door and into freedom. The test subjects they freed didn't stay back to chat, they pushed past them and started running for the gates, scrambling to climb over them as fast as they could.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Jaehyun’s voice, alight with fury, roared, resonating through the air. Jisung glanced back as he ran, seeing Mark turning his head and shouting something to someone out of sight as he stood in the doorway, a human shield for them. They reached Mark’s car, Jisung bodily threw Chenle in as Donghyuck clambered in behind him while Jeno started the car, leaving the shotgun seat for Mark.

Like all disasters, it happened in a split second.

“Wait, Mark – ” Donghyuck started to say and then a gunshot rang out. Jisung spun around, seeing Mark crumple to the ground. “Mark!” Donghyuck screamed in anguish, almost jumping out of the car if Jisung hadn’t held tight to him. He cried out, thrashing around wildly as Jeno pulled out of the parking lot, the gate swinging open with a beep when Jeno reached out to swipe the card Jisung handed him. A gunshot rang out again, dangerously close to their car as guards broke through the doorway, dragging Mark’s limp body away and aiming at them.

Jisung pulled them both down the seat, trying to keep their heads away from the windows. A series of gunshots rattled out, a metallic ping resounding when one just grazed their car. The coughs of the guns suddenly went erratic, one more panicked than the other as the growling of the Infected joined the din. “Stop the car!” Donghyuck shrieked at an ear-splitting volume, “Mark is right there, damn it!”

He struggled, almost clawing off Jisung’s face when he latched his arms around Donghyuck and held fast, “Fuck you guys! How dare you! How _dare_ you…!” He broke off into heart-wrenching sobs, wailing so loudly Jisung had to clamp his hand around his mouth to muffle the sound.

And so it was there, in the middle of the parking lot of that cursed building where humanity tried to play God and was struck down for their presumption, that Lee Donghyuck lost his most precious friend all over again.

All it took was a second. 

Jisung fought to keep himself together as he was jolted around in the car, one friend broken and another with a broken heart. He bit his lip, tears dripping down his chin and mingling with the sweat. For all his preaching, in the end he made a choice too. And he had no doubt that he would do it all over again.

/

Sacrifices have to be made, Mark had believed. So did Jaemin and Jeno, and Jaehyun, and even Jisung himself. Probably no one had understood that as acutely as Mark did, who had to sacrifice his morals to keep himself in a place where he could attempt to dismantle the new world order, and who ended up choosing to sacrifice his own life as his last betting chip against the world.

Sacrifices have to be made because the end justifies the means, but they aren’t always easy and they aren’t always equal and they aren’t always right.

Jaemin and Jeno continued to work on the virus, getting in contact with others through social media and spreading their story and discoveries all over the internet where it will stay, circulating around until everyone found out about the betrayal by their own country.

Donghyuck shut himself in his room for close to a week, ignoring any food they left outside his door and Renjun’s desperate attempts to reach him. One day he left at dawn and came back, streaked in blood, clutching Mark’s lanyard in one hand and a dripping paring knife in another. The next day, photos of the ruined building, its wire mesh gates torn down and overrun with Infected were plastered all over the internet. Jisung flicked a glance at Donghyuck who sat at the table, quietly polishing his knife as Renjun nagged him about ‘bringing weapons to the table’.

Chenle, to Jisung’s greatest relief, didn’t turn. Jisung took over Renjun's role and drugged him up thrice a day until his own immune system cleared the virus away and Jaemin’s own paranoia meter was satisfied with his recovery. Even then Jaemin refused to let him stop the medications until he could say for certain that there wasn't a trace of virus in his brain. Except for the random bouts of muscle spasms and the need for a continuous supply of chew toys that was up to Jisung to pilfer from pet stores, he was as well as they could have hoped for. 

The world slowly got back to its feet. With everything out in the open, people started to come together to fix their broken world.

Jisung ambled along lethargically by Chenle’s side on his twice-daily walk. Jaemin insisted that it would help to alleviate the stiffness and neither of them were willing to argue further once they saw the look in his eyes. Jaemin had gotten even more overbearing since they returned from their would-be suicide mission, never really letting them out of sight for long until Jeno stepped in and distracted him. The air was beginning to warm as spring properly set in, buds of cherry blossoms blooming and falling softly to litter the ground. Despite the beauty, Jisung barely registered the sight. Apocalypse or not, he really, _really_ hated mornings. Especially if he had to get up before the sun and follow Chenle around like a personal guard dog.

“Hey, Park Jisung,” Chenle nudged him. He grunted, not fully awake to participate in a full conversation.

He waited, but Chenle remained silent. The morning sun was almost fully up and Jisung had long since given up on hearing a reply when Chenle said, softly enough that he almost missed it, “I’m glad it’s you.”

Their fingers brushed, and nothing else was said after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about Mark I'm sorry baby you did well now rest in peace. Jaehyun always felt like he would make a brilliant villian, I don't know why. I love you my child but sometimes you get a look in your eyes that is downright chilling. And yes, Dr Kim is Doyoung. I apologise for making everyone cry in the last chapter when you thought Chenle died. 
> 
> And so it's done! So am I! I'm not going to write a single word for five years because lord I almost lost my mind writing this.
> 
> The next 'chapter' is going to be a very long end note on the topics discussed, the promised description of the virus and just a bit of headcanon


	7. End Notes and headcanon

This is rather long, but I would like to talk about 1) the promised pathology of the virus and 2) my thoughts on the issues raised as well as a little bit of canon

1) Zombie viruses exist.

Not for humans, thankfully, but for ants and slugs and some other simpler creatures. These viruses are able to control the behaviour of the host they infect. The fictional virus in this story infects the neurons in the brain, shutting it down and taking over, thereby controlling the behaviour of the host. Stage 1 is where it enters the body and the first thing it does is to run to the brain because it is small and weak when it's alone. The immune cells that kill it are very, very fast but one huge disadvantage is that it cannot cross the blood-brain barrier. Essentially, it means that as long as the virus can get to the brain, it can remain alive. Stage 2 is when they get into the brain and start making more of itself. This is when the fevers and muscle spasms happen. Stage 3 is when there is so much of it that it takes over the brain entirely. That's when you become a zombie.

How does Renjun's drug work? God, this hurt my brain the most. I am not a chemistry expert, I hate chemistry, I know nothing about it, and pharmaceutics were my absolute worst area in uni. So if there is a chemistry expert out there, please don't come at my throat I know I got something wrong somewhere i am s o r r y. Anyways. I chose to use a pre-existing drug because trust me, drugs take a million years to find out, test, and get through the three stages of clinical trials and they are ridiculously expensive. In an apocalyptic world like this one, it's impossible to create a reliable vaccine, especially not within a year. Renjun's drug was supposed to be the stone that blocked the keyhole. If the virus can't enter, it will remain outside and will die eventually or be killed by the immune cells. 

Now, what if the virus was already in your brain? There are a lot of doors in the brain but the virus got through a few. If you block the keyhole now, it won't be able to get to the other rooms. So what you get is a brain that is partially infected. In other words, a part zombie. That brings me to my next point.

2) Should you kill a part zombie?

I didn't write it because it didn't fit the flow, but after the discovery of the drug, people started using it on their friends and families who were bitten. Because they were all at various stages of the disease, you get a lot of variation on how 'zombie-like' the person is. So, who should you kill? Mother dearest is feeling a little off today, please excuse her attempts to eat you. Your neighbour is unlikely to leave with a smile and a jig in his step and a lot more likely to kill you both.

Zombies are not human, so we reserve every right to kill them. True, but how do you gauge this? With what meter do you use to estimate their humanity? And with what authority do you use to measure someone's humanity? Remember, the level of humanity you display is proportional to your likelihood of being spared. That essentially means that your fate is up to someone else, someone else who might be the same person claiming to want to save people. And that brings me to my last point.

3) **At no point in time should any one ever, _ever_ choose the fate of a group of individuals.**

There are no words for how much hatred I have regarding this. We have seen this in wars throughout history and every single one of it repulsed and incensed me to unimaginable levels. If one were to put this into an ethical or philosophical framework, one could argue as Jaehyun did; it was for the greater good. Ten lives are better than one. If any of you have ever seen the train ethical question, you will know what I mean.

But the very moment that we decide that ten lives are better than one, we are placing a value on it. We are comparing lives as though we are buying apples at the market. Again, I reiterate; who are we to place a value on a human life and decide the fate of another? Choosing to save one life compared to another is _entirely different_ from choosing to preserve one life while killing another. This is what Jisung and Jeno and Jaemin chose to do. Jisung at the beginning, when he chose to save himself rather than Jaemin. Jeno when he chose to save the lives of those in the car rather than Mark. Jaemin when he chose to try and save one more life rather than return to his family. Jisung again, when he chose to save Donghyuck rather than Mark, although Mark was arguably way past the stage to be saved at all. And of course, every single scientist who choose to save a human life rather than a mouse.

So what we have in that final scene was;

A) Jisung who chose the lives of his companions over those of strangers

B) Mark who chose to save an undefined and uncertain number of people while taking part in killing just as many. Jaehyun could be argued to fall into his category as well

When Jaehyun asked Jisung what was the difference between them two, this is it right here. That was why Jisung had trouble deciding if he should help Mark get the drug or not. If he leaves the drug behind, he would be indirectly responsible for the deaths of those who are selected to die. If he goes to get the drug, he would be indirectly responsible for the deaths of the test subjects who will die in the process of creating the antidote. Jisung did the only thing he could. He went down to his core motivation, the driving factor for him throughout the entire story; he chose to save Chenle's life.

Jaehyun's argument that they were doing things for the sake of humanity is flawed. What is the greater good? The whole concept that Jaehyun used to justify what they do of something being for the greater good is itself biased. It is for the good of the people doing the murder, not so much for the victims. The argument for the greater good is no longer valid the moment a person raises a hand against another and in a war as unfairly skewed as the one in this fictional world, it is basically a massacre. This then, goes back to the initial question. Should we kill zombies? If we follow what I said up there, the answer is yes. We could choose to save the lives of those precious to us in exchange for the zombie's. But we should not reason that the zombie's life is worth less than us, because they were once a human just like you and I. All we can say about it is that we made a necessary sacrifice; to choose one life over another. One life chosen is still one life lost, and that is the insurmountable consequence of every battle. 

Is it murder if you kill the zombie? Absolutely. And I would do it again. 

Okay now to end with something a bit lighter, headcanons!

1\. Jeno is waiting patiently for Jaemin. Jaemin's a bit hardheaded and a bit of a workaholic and he would overthink everything. Jeno would much rather stay by his side and let him figure out for himself that nothing has to change, only now he can get the cuddles he secretly craves for.

2\. Chenle and Jisung with their emotions (interpret that how you will) are like children encountering worms for the first time. New and gross and too freaky to touch for very long. They have to get used to it before they can get around to nurturing it into a butterfly.

3\. Donghyuck adores Mark and Renjun with all of his little Gemini heart. Renjun understands that and tolerates his affection and reciprocates in his Aries fashion. 

4\. Jaemin gave up on fighting Renjun very quickly because as much as he hates losing, he hates socialising even more and he would rather just. Not talk. He likes to work and save the nagging for incubation times. Jisung eventually got accustomed to Jaemin's nagging and sees it for what it is. His teenager brain needed time to stop getting agitated over every barb.

5\. Jeno stayed behind with Jaemin at the beginning. He and Jaemin lost contact with their families in the same way that Chenle did. In this world, no contact equals to presumed dead. Jisung's brother went out, never came back, and so did his mother when she went to look for him. He joined Chenle at his place and created a little makeshift family, protecting it with all the force in his 17 year old body

That's all I have. I hope you guys enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please do let me know your thoughts about this and do correct me on things I might have gotten wrong


End file.
